M<jf^,/^^Vci 


ifornia 
)nal 

Lty 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 
FREDERIC  THOMAS  BLANCHARD 


WORKS    or    KORACEr 

TRANSLATED  BY 

PHILIP  FRANCIS,  D.  D. 


Biiissiia^a^^  •"■'■'AN'  '.K>i 


Puhi'hit  <Xh^%X(Hlork 


THE 


WORKS  OF  HORACE, 


TRAI^SLATED 


BY  PHILIP  FRANCIS,  D.  D. 


TO  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  TRANSLATOR 


IK  TWO  VOLUME?, 


VOL.  I. 


NEW-YORK  : 

PUBLISHED  BY   SOLOMON  KlNGj 
No.  136  William-Street. 


1825. 


LIFE  OF  THE  TRANSLATOR, 

THE  REV.  PHILIP  FRANCIS. 


Few  memoirs  have  been  handed  down  to  us  oi 
the  able  translator  of  Horace  and  Demosthenes.  He 
was  of  Irish  extraction,  if  not  born  in  that  king- 
dom ;  where  his  father  was  a  dignified  clergyman, 
and,  among  other  preferments,  held  the  rectory  of 
St.  Mary  Dublin,  from  which  he  was  ejected  by  the 
court  on  account  of  his  Tory  principles.  His  son^ 
our  author,  was  also  educated  for  the  church,  and 
obtained  a  doctor's  degree.  His  edition  of  Horace 
made  his  name  known  in  England  about  the  year 
1743,  and  raised  him  a  reputation,  as  a  classicaj 
editor  and  translator,  which  no  subsequent  attempts 
have  been  able  to  diminish.  Dr.  Johnson,  many 
years  after  other  rivals  had  started,  gave  him  this 
praise  :  "  The  lyrical  part  of  Horace  never  can  bo 
properly  translated ;  so  much  of  the  excellence  is  in 
the  numbers  and  the  expression.  Francis  has  done 
it  the  best :  I'U  take  his,  five  out  of  six,  against 
them  all." 

Sometime  after  the  publication  of  Horace,  he  ap* 
pears  to  have  come  over  to  England  ;  where,  in  175.3 
hQ  published  a  translation  of  part  of  the  Orations-o; 

looiesi 


vi  LIFE  OF  DR.  FRANCIS. 

Demo^sihenes,  intending  to  comprise  the  whole  111 
two  quarto  volumes .  It  was  a  matter  of  some  im- 
portance at  that  time  to  publish  a  large  work  of  this 
kind,  and  the  author  had  the  precaution  therefore  to 
secure  a  copious  list  of  subscribers ,  Unfortunately, 
however,  it  had  to  contend  with  the  acknowledged 
merit  cf  Leland's  Translation  ;  and,  allowing  their 
respective  merits  to  have  been  nearly  equal,  Lc« 
land's  had  at  least  the  priority  in  point  of  time,  and, 
npo"n  comparison,  was  preferred  by  the  critics,  as 
being  more  free  and  eloquent,  and  less  literally  ex- 
act. This,  however,  did  not  arise  from  any  defect 
in  our  author's  skill,  but  was  merely  an  error,  if  an 
error  at  all,  in  judgment  :  for  he  conceived  that  as 
few  liberties  as  possible  ought  to  be  taken  with  the 
style  of  his  author,  and  that  there  was  an  essential 
difference  between  a  literal  translation,  which  only 
he  considered  as  faithful,  and  an  imitation,  in  which 
we  can  never  be  certain  that  we  have  the  author's 
words  or  precise  meaning.  In  the  year  1755,  he 
completed  his  purpose  in  a  second  volume,  which 
was  applauded  as  a  difficult  work  well  executed, 
and  acceptable  to  every  friend  of  genius  and  litera- 
ture :  but  its  success  was  by  no  means  correspon.; 
dent  to  the  wishes  of  the  author  or  of  his  friends. 
The  year  before  the  first  volume  of  his  Demos- 
thenes appeared,  he  determined  to  attempt  the 
drama,  and  his  first  essay  was  a  tragedy,  entitled 
Eugenia.  This  is  professedly  an  adaptation  of  the 
French  Cenio  to  English  feelings  and  habits,  but  it 
had  not  much  success  on  the  stage.  Lord  Chester- 
field, in  one  of  his  letters  to  his  son,  observes,  that 
he  did  not  think  it  would  have  succeeded  so  well^ 
tronsjdering  how  long  our  British  audiences  had  been 


LIFE  OF  DK.  FRANCIS.  lit 

•sccuslomed  to  murder,  racks,  and  poisoU;  in  fetery 
tragedy  :  yet  it  affected  the  heart  so  much,  th^t  it 
triumphed  over  habit  and  prejudice.  In  a  subse- 
quent letter,  he  says  that  the  boxes  were  crowded 
~ill  the  sixth  night,  when  the  pit  and  gallery  were 
totally  deserted,  and  it  was  dropped.  Distress  wilH- 
out  death,  he  repeats,  was  not  sufficient  to  affect  a 
true  British  audience,  so  long  accustomed  to  dag- 
gers, racks,  and  bowls  of  poison  ;  contrary  to 
Horace's  rule,  they  desire  to  see  Medea  mrurder  Iier 
children  on  the  «tage.  The  sentiments  were  too 
delicate  to  move  them  :  and  their  hearts  were  to  be 
-*aken  by  storm,  not  by  parley. 

In  1754,  Mr.  Francis  brought  out  another  trage^ 
at  Covent-Garden  theatre,  entitled  Constantine, 
which  was  equally  unsuccessful,  but  appears  to  have 
suffered  principally  by  the  improper  distribution  oi" 
'.he parts  among  the  actors.  This  he  alludes  to, in 
fhe  dedication  to  lord  Ch'^esterfield,  with  whom  lie 
appears  to  have  been  acquainted  ;  and  intimates, 
at  the  same  time,  that  these  disappointments  had  in- 
duced him  to  take  leave  of  the  stage. 

During  the  political  contests  at  the  beginning  ol 
the  present  reigTJ,  he  employed  his  pen  in  defence, 
of  government,  and  acquired  the  patronage  of  lorOi 
Holland  ;  who  rewarded  his  services  by  the  rectorv 
of  Barrow  in  Suffolk,  and  the  chaplainship  cJ 
tJhelsea-hospital.  What  were  his  publications  on 
political  topics,  as  they  were  anonymous,  and  pvc 
bably  dispersed  among  the  periodical  journals,  can- 
not now  be  ascertained.  They  drew  upon  him, 
liOwever.  the  wrath  of  Churchill,  who  in  his  ''Au- 
thor" has  exhibited  a  portrait  ol'  Mr.  Francis  pro= 
■jab'y  orerchargedby  spleen  and  envy.  Churchill  irj 


vlii  LIFE  OF  DR.  FRANCIS. 

deed  was  so  profuse  ofhiscalumny,  that,  long  beiWt. 
he  died,  h\a  as:sertions  had'begun  to  lose  their  value , 
He  is  said  to  have  intended  to  write  a  satirical 
poeTil,  in  which  Francis  was  to  make  his  appearance 
as  the 'ordinary  of  Newgate.  The  severity  of  this 
satire  was  better  understood  at  that  time,  when  the 
ordinaries  of  Newgate  were  held  in  very  little  es- 
teem, and  some  of  them  were  grossly  ignorant  and 
dissolute. 

Mr.  Francis  died  at  Bath,  March  5, 1773,  leaving' 
a  son,  who  in  the  same  year  was  appointed  one  of 
the  Supreme  Council  of  Bengal,  and  is  now  sir 
Philip  Francis,  K.  B.,  and  M.  P.  for  Appleby. 

Of  all  the  classical  writers,  Horace  is  by  general 
oonsent  allowed  to  be  the  most  difficult  to  translate  ; 
yet  so  universal  has  been  the  ambition  to  perform 
this  task,  that  scarcely  an  English  poet  can  be 
named  in  whose  works  we  do  not  find  some  part  of 
Horace.  These  efforts,  however,  have  not  so  fre^ 
quently  been  directed  to  give  the  sense  and  local 
meaning  of  the  author,  as  to  transfuse  his  satire, 
and  adapt  it  to  modern  persons  and  times.  But  of 
the  few  who  have  exhibited  the  whole  of  this  in- 
teresting poet  in  an  English  dress,  Mr.  Francis  has 
been  supposed  to  have  succeeded  best  in  that  which 
is  most  difficult,  the  lyric  part,  and  likewise  to  have 
oonveyed^the  spirit  and  sense  of  the  original,  in  the 
Epistles  and  Satires,  with  least  injury  to  the  genius 
of  the  author.  In  his  perface,  he  acknowledges  hi* 
c>bligations  to  Dr.  Dunkin,  a  poet  of  some  celebrity, 
and  a  an  excellent  classical  scholar. 

While  Horace  is  accounted  the  most  difficult,  he  i^ 
f>erhap9  of  all  Latin  authors  th©most  popular ;  aiiu 


LIFE  OF  DR.  FRAxNGIS.  i.x 

accDidiiigly  we  find  more  frequent  quotations  froiii 
him  than  from  any  other.  He  is  in  Latin  what  Pope 
3ii  is  English  ;  and  the  reason  is  honourable  to  his 
talentS;  to  the  refinement  and  elegance  of  his  senti- 
ments, and  to  the  universal  range  he  took  through 
the  extensive  provinces  of  manners,  morals,  and 
criticism.  He  was  contemporary  with  Virgil  and 
Varius,  by  whose  means  he  obtained  the  patronage 
of  Maecenas  and  Augustus.  To  Mcecenas  he  was 
=0  warmly  attached,  that  it  has  been  supposed,  but 
not  on  sufficient  authority,  that  he  put  an  end  tohi^i 
own  life  in  order  to  follow  his  generous  patron.  Ii 
is  certain  that  he  died  soon  after  Msecenas,  in  the 
fifty-seventh  year  of  his  age.  and  in  the  year  eighth 
before  the  Christian  sera. 


PREFACE. 

JL  HE  works  of  Horace  have  been  always  num 
bered  among  the  most  valuable  remains  of  antiqur 
ty.  If  we  may  rely  upon  the  judgment  of  his  com- 
mentatorS;  he  has  united  in  his  lyric  poelry  the  en- 
thusiasm of  Pindar,  the  majesty  of  Alcaeus,  the  ten- 
derness of  Sappho,  and  the  charming  levities  of  An- 
acreon.  Yet  he  has  beauties  of  his  own  genius,  hie 
own  manner,,  that  form  his'peculiar  character.  Ma- 
ny of  his  odes  are  varied  with  irony  and  satire  ; 
with  delicacy  and  humour  ;  with  ease  and  pleasant^ 
ry.  Some  of  them  were  written  in  the  first  heat 
of  imagination,  when  circumstances  of  time,  pla- 
ces, persons,  were  strong  upon  him.  In  others,  he 
rises  in  full  poetical  dignity  ;  sublime  in  sentiments, 
bold  in  allusions,  and  profuse  of  figures  ;  frugal  of 
words,  carious  in  his  choice,  and  happily  ventu- 
rous in  his  use  of  them  ;  pure  in  his  diction,  ani- 
mated in  his  expressions,  and  harmonious  in  his 
numbers ;  artful  in  the  plans  of  his  poems,  regu- 
lar in  their  conduct,  and  happy  in  their  execution. 
Surely  the  best  attempts  to  translate  so  various  an 
anther,  will  require  great  indulgence,  and  any  tol- 
erable success  may  deserve  it.  But  perhaps  we 
shall  better  see  the  variety  of  our  poet's  genius  by 
considering,  if  such  an  expression  may  be  forgiven,, 
the  various  genius  of  lyric  poetry. 
Jn  the  first  ages  of  Greece,  the  lyric  muse  \^*as 


xii  PREFACE. 

particularly  appointed  to  celebrate  the  praises  of 
the  gods  and  heroes  in  their  festivals.  The  noblest 
precepts  of  philosophy  were  enlivened  by  musiC; 
and  animated  by  the  language  of  poetry,  while 
reason  governed  the  raptures,  which  a  religious  en- 
thusiasm inspired.  We  may  therefore  believe,  that 
nothing  could  enter  into  its  compositions,  but  what 
was  chnste  and  correct,  awful  and  sublime,  while 
it  was  employed  in  singing  thepraisesof  gods,  and 
immortalizing  the  actions  of  men ;  in  supporting 
the  sacred  truths  of  religion,  and  encouraging  the 
practice  of  moral  virtue.  Such  was  its  proper,  na- 
tural character.  But  it  soon  lost  this  original  ex-^ 
cellence,  and  became  debased  to  every  light  de- 
scription of  love,  dances,  feasts,  gallantry,  and  wine, 
In  this  view  it  may  be  compared  to  one  of  its  first 
masters,  who  descended  (according  to  an  expres- 
sion of  Quintilian)  into  sports  and  loves,  although 
naturally  formed  for  nobler  subjects. 

Yet  this  alteration,  though  it  lessened  its  natural 
dignity,  seems  to  have  added  to  that  pleasing  va- 
riety, to  which  no  other  poetry  can  pretend.  For 
when  the  skill  and  experience  of  the  persons,  who 
first  cultivated  the  different  kinds  of  poems,  gave 
to  each  kind  those  numbers,  which  seemed  most 
proper  for  it ;  as  lyric  poetry  had  given  birth  to  all 
sorts  of  verse,  so  it  preserved  to  itself  all  the  meas» 
ures  of  which  they  are  composed,  the  pentameter 
alone  excepted.  Thus  a  variety  of  subjects  is 
agreeably  maintained  by  a  variety  of  numbers,  and 
they  have  both  contributed  to  that  free,  unbounded 
spirit,  which  forms  the  peculiar  character  of  lyria 
poetry. 


PREFACE.  xiii 

In  this  freedom  of  spirit  it  disdains  to  mark  the 
transitions,  which  preserve  a  connection  in  alt 
other  writings,  and  which  naturally  conduct  the 
mind  from  one  thought  to  another.  From  whence 
it  must  often  happen,  that  while  a  translator  is 
grammatically  explaining  his  author,  and  opening 
his  reasoning,  that  genius  and  manner,  and  bold- 
ness of  thinking,  which  are  effects  of  an  immediate 
poetical  enthusiasm,  shall  either  be  wholly  lost,  or 
greatly  dissipated  and  enfeebled. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  this  kind  of  poetry  was  the 
first  that  appeared  in  Rome,  as  it  was  the  first  that 
was  known  in  Greece,  and  was  used  in  the  same 
subjects  by  the  Romans,  while  they  had  not  yet 
any  correspondence  with  Greece  and  her  learning. 
However,  it  continued  in  almost  its  first  rudeness 
until  the  Augustan  age,  when  Horace,  improved  by 
reading  and  imitating  the  Grecian  poets,  carried  it 
at  once  to  its  perfection,  and,  in  the  judgment  of 
Quintilian,  is  almost  the  only  Latin  lyric  poet 
worthy  of  being  read. 

If  we  should  inquire  into  the  state  of  lyric  poetry 
among  English  writers,  we  shall  be  obliged  to  con- 
fess that  their  taste  was  early  vitiated,  and  their 
judgment  unhappily  misguided,  by  the  too  great 
success  of  one  man  of  wit,  who  first  gave  Pindar's 
name  to  a  wild,  irregular  kind  of  versification,  of 
which  there  is  not  one  instance  in  Pindar.  All  his 
numbers  are  exact,  and  all  his  strophes  regular. 
But  from  the  authority  of  Cowley,  supported  by  an 
inconsiderate  imitation  of  some  other  eminent  wri- 
ters, every  idler  in  poetry,  who  has  not  strength  or 
industry  sufficient  to  coufine  his  rhymes  and  num* 


■xiv  PREFACE. 

bers  to  some  constant  form  (which  can  alone  give 
ihera  real  harmony,)  makes  an  art  of  wandering, 
and  then  calls  his  work  a  Pindaric  ode ;  in  which, 
by  the  same  justness  of  criticism,  his  imagination 
is  as  wild  and  licentious  as  his  numbers  are  loose 
and  irregular. 

To  avoid  this  fault,  all  the  measures  in  the  follow- 
ing translation  are  constantly  maintained  through 
each  ode,  except  in  the  Carmen  Seculare.  But  it 
may  be  useless  to  excuse  particulars,  when  possi- 
bly the  whole  poem,  in  its  present  form,  may  be 
condemned.  Yet  by  foreigners  it  has  been  called 
Mr.  Sanadon's  master-piece ;  and  since  the  odes  of 
Horace  are  certainly  not  in  that  order  at  present, 
in  which  they  were  originally  published,  it  has 
been  esteemed  an  uncommon  proof  of  his  critical 
sagacity,  to  have  reconciled  in  one  whole  so  many 
broken  parts,  that  have  so  long  perplexed  the  best 
commentators.  Yet  the  reader  will  find  some  alte- 
lation  of  Mr.  Sanadon's  plan,  for  which  thetransla- 
tor  is  obliged  to  the  learned  and  reverend  Mr. 
Jones,  who  lately  published  a  very  valuable  edition 
of  Horace. 

Although  it  was  impossible  to  preserve  our  au- 
ihor's  measures,  yet  the  form  of  his  strophes  has 
been  often  imitated,  and,  in  general,  there  will  be 
iluund  a  greater  number  of  different  stanzas,  in  the 
franslation,  than  in  the  original.  One  advantage 
there  is  peculiar  to  English  stanzas,  that  some  of 
them  have  a  natural  ease  and  fluency ;  others  seem 
formed  for  humour  and  pleasantry ;  while  a  third 
kind  has  a  tone  of  dignity  and  solemnity  proper  for 
sublimer  subjects.   Thus  the  measures  and  form  of 


PREFACE.  XV 

the  stanza  will  often  show  the  design  and  cast  ol" 
the  ode. 

In  the  translation  it  has  not  only  been  endea 
voured  to  give  the  poet's  general  meaning,  but  to 
preserve  that  force  of  expression,  in  which  his  pe- 
ouliar  happiness  consists,  and  that  boldness  of  epi» 
thets,  for  which  one  of  his  commentators  callshin; 
wonderful,  and  almost  divine.  Many  odes,  espe- 
cially in  the  first  book,  have  little  more  than  choice 
of  words  and  harmony  of  numbers  to  make  them 
not  unworthy  of  their  author  ;  and  although  these 
were  really  the  most  difficult  parts  of  the  transla- 
tion, yet  tliey  will  be  certainly  the  least  entertain- 
ing to  an  English  reader.  In  the  usual  manner  o"f 
paraphrase  or  imitation,  it  had  not  been  impossible 
to  have  given  them  more  spirit,  according  to  tlie 
taste  of  many  a  modern  critic,  by  enlarging  the 
poet's  design,  and  adding  to  his  thoughts;  but, 
however  hardy  the  translator  may  seem  by  hif^ 
present  adventurous  undertaking,  this  was  a  pre»- 
sumption,  of  which  he  was  very  little  capable. 

It  would  hq,  a  tedious,  useless,  and  ill-natured  la^ 
hour  to  point  out  the  faults  in  other  versions  of 
onr  poet.  Let  us  rather  acknowledge,  that  therr 
ure  excellent  lines  in  them,  of  which  the  present 
translator  has  taken  as  many  as  he  could  use  upon 
iiis  plan,  and  wishes,  for  the  sake  of  the  publir, 
they  could  be  found  to  exceed  a  hundred. 

Yet  still  the  far  more  valuable  parts  of  our  au- 
thor remain  to  be  considered.  If  in  his  Odes  he 
appears  with  all  the  charms  and  graces  and  orna- 
jnents  of  poetry,  in  his  Epistles  and  Satires  he- 
gives  us  the  noblest  precepts  of  philosophy,  tha^ 
'?ver  formed  the  hunKm  heart,  or  improved  the  uv.-^ 


^nl  PREFACE. 

del-standing.  He  tells  us,  that  Homer  shows  in  a 
clearer  and  more  persuasive  manner  the  beauty 
and  advantages  of  virtue,  the  deformity  and  dangers 
of  vice,  than  even  the  Stoic  and  Academician  phi- 
losophers. Yet  the  morality  of  Homer  is  confined 
to  politics  ;  to  the  virtues  or  vices  of  princes,  upon 
whom,  indeed,  the  happiness  or  misery  of  their 
people  depends.  But  in  the  morality  of  Horace,, 
the  happiness  and  misery  of  all  humankind  are  in- 
terested. Here  the  gratitude  and  affection  due  to 
a  good  father  for  his  care  and  tenderness  are  im- 
pressed upon  the  child.  Here  we  are  taught,  that 
real  greatness  does  not  arise  from  the  accident  of 
being  nobly  born,  or  descended  from  a  race  of  ti- 
tled ancestors.  We  must  imitate  those  virtues, 
to  which  they  were  indebted  for  their  titles.  Such 
are  the  sentiments  of  our  poet's  philosophy. 

If  his  religion  were  a  subject  for  our  curiosity, 
it  will  appear  to  have  been  founded  upon  the  best 
reasoning  of  the  human  understanding.  He  as- 
serts a  supreme  Being,  with  that  noble  idea  of  him, 
"  Unde  nil  majus  generatur  ipso,  nee  viget  quic- 
quam  simile  aut  secundum."  From  this  Being  all 
others,  both  gods  and  men,  received  their  existence, 
and  upon  him  they  depend  for  the  continuance  of 
it.  But  as  creeds  and  practice  too  frequently  dif- 
fer, it  is  acknowledged,  that  our  poet,  although  not 
professedly  the  disciple  of  any  particular  school, 
in  general  lived  an  Epicurean.  Such  a  religion 
was  happily  suited  to  the  natural  indolence  of  his 
disposition,  the  carelessness  of  his  temper,  and  the 
companionable  gaiety  of  his  humour.  Yet  we  find 
him  honest,  just,  humane,  and  good-natured;  firm 
in  his  frien^S'hips ;  grateful,  without  flattery;  to 


PREFACE.  xvii 

•he  bounty  of  Msecenas,  and  wisely  contented  with 
the  fortune  which  he  had  the  honour  of  receiving 
fi-om  his  ilkistrious  patron.  Among  the  numerous 
authors  of  antiquity,  others,  perhaps,  maybemox'» 
admired;  or  esteemed ;  none  more  amiable,  more 
worthy  to  be  beloved. 

The  difficulty  of  translating  this  part  of  his  works 
arises  in  general  from  the  frequent  translations  <Jf 
lines  in  Grecian  writers,  and  parodies  on  those  of 
his  contemporaries  ;  from  his  introducing  new  cha* 
racters  on  the  scene,  and  changing  the  speakers  <}f 
his  dialogues  ;  from  his  not  marking  his  transitions 
fron)  thought  to  thought,  but  giving  them  as  they 
lay  in  his  mind.  These  unconnected  transitions 
are  of  great  life  and  spirit ;  nor  should  a  translator 
be  too  coldly  regular  in  supplying  the  connection, 
since  it  will  be  a  tame  performance,  that  gives  us 
the  sense  of  Horace,  if  it  be  not  given  in  his  pecu- 
liar manner. 

As  his  editors  have  often  perplexed  the  text,  by 
altering  the  measures  of  our  author  for  the  sake  ef 
a  more  musical  cadence  ;  so  they,  who  have  imi- 
tated or  translated  him  with  most  success  in  Eng- 
lish, seem  to  have  forgotten,  that  a  carelessness  of 
numbers  is  a  peculiar  part  of  his  character,  whicti 
ought  to  be  preserved  almost  as  faithfully  as  his 
sentiments. 

Style  is  genius,  and  justly  numbered  amongst 
the  fountains  of  the  sublhne.  Expression  io  poet- 
ry is  that  colouring  in  painting,  which  distingujshBs 
a  master's  hand.  But  the  misfortune  of  our  trans- 
lators  is,  that  they  have  only  one  style  ;  and  con» 
sequenily  all  their  authors,  Homer,  Virgil,  Horace; 

Ovid,  are  c«rcpelkd  to  speak  in  the  ^me  niratier^ . 
Vql.  I.  2 


xnu  PREFACE. 

and  the  same  unvaried  expression.  Tlie  free-born 
spirit  of  poetry  is  confined  in  twenty  constant  syl- 
lables, and  the  sense  regularly  ends  with  every  se- 
cond line,  as  if  the  writer  had  not  strength  enough 
to  support  himself,  or  courage  enough  to  venture 
into  a  third. 

This  unclassical  kind  of  versification  would  be 
particularly  most  unnatural  in  a  translation  of  Ho- 
race. It  would  make  him  argue  in  couplets,  and 
the  persons  of  hrs  dialogues  converse  almost  in 
epigrams.  The  translator  has  theref&re  followed 
the  sense  in  one  unbroken  period.  He  has  often 
Endeavoured  to  imitate  the  prosaic  cadence  of  his 
author,  when  he  could  with  much  more  ease  have 
made  him  appear  like  a  modern  original.  He  has- 
run  the  lines  into  each  other,  as  he  believes  it  the 
best  manner  of  preserving  that  looser,  prosaic  poet- 
ry, that  negligence  of  numbers,  whicli  has  ever  been 
esteemed  one  of  his  peculiar  beauties. 

If  we  consider  the  poetical  spirit  and  numerous 
variety  of  measures  in  his  Odes,  we  may  believr 
this  careless  versification  in  his  Satires  was  not  an 
effect  of  necessity,  but  of  judgment.  His  frequent 
u?e  of  proverbs  and  common  phrases  ;  his  diflTerent 
manner  of  expressing  the  same  sentiments  in  hi& 
Odes  and  Satires,  will  convince  us,  that  he  really 
thought  a  satirest  and  a  poat  were  extremely  dif- 
ferent characters  ;  that  the  language  of  poetry 
was  as  unnatural  to  the  morality  of  satire,  as  a 
i*ow,  familiar  style  to  the  majesty  of  an  epic  poem  ; 
or,  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  that  the  Muse  of  Sa- 
tire walks  on  foot,  while  all  her  sisters  soar  into 
fbe  skies. 

Tf  fh^s  critidim  be  ja&t,-  the  dispute  bMween  J-i 


PREFACE.  sU 

vend  and  Horace,  with  regard  to  style,  may  with 
<iase  be  decided.  In  Juvenal  the  vices  of  his  age 
are  shown  in  all  their  natural  horrors.  He  com- 
mands his  readers  in  the  language  of  authority,  and 
terrifies  them  with  images  drawn  in  the  boldness  Of 
a  truly  poetical  spirit.  He  stands  like  a  priest  at 
an  altar  sacrificing  to  his  gods  ;  but  even  a  priest, 
in  his  warmest  zeal  of  religion,  might  be  forgiven, 
if  he  confessed  so  much  humanity,  as  not  to  take 
pleasure  in  hearing  the  groans,  and  searching  intj» 
xhe  entrails  of  the  victim. 

There  is  a  kind  of  satire  of  such  malignity,  as 
coo  surely  proceeds  from  a  desire  of  gratifying  a 
constitutional  cruelty  of  temper.  The  satirest  does 
not  appear  like  a  magistrate  to  give  sentence  on 
she  vices  of  mankind,  but  like  an  executioner  to 
-laughter  the  criminal.  It  was  the  saying  of  a. 
^reat  man,  that  he  who  hated  vice,  hated  mankind; 
nut  certainly  be  does  not  love  them  as  he  ought^ 
who  indulges  his  natural  sagacity  in  adiscernmeni 
of  their  faults,  and  feels  an  ill-natured  pleasure  in 
v-xposlng  them  to  public  view. 

Our  author  was  of  another  spirit  ;  of  a  natural 
cheerfulness  of  temper  ;  an  easiness  of  manners, 
iashioned  by  the  politeness  of  courts  ;  a  good  un- 
derstanding, improved  by  conversing  with  man- 
kind ;  a  quick  discernment  of  their  frailties,  but, 
in  general,  so  happy  an  art  of  correcting  them,  that 
he  reproves  without  offending,  and  instructs  with- 
out an  affectation  of  superiority.  He  preserves  a 
strength  of  reasoning  necessary  to  persuade,  with- 
out that  dogmatical  seriousness,  which  is  apt  to 
disgust^ or  disoblige.  He  has  thjis  advantage  over 
viie  rigid  satirest,  that^we  receive  him  into  our  ho^- 


XX.  PREFACE. 

^onis,  while  he  reasons  with  good-humour,,  anu 
corrects  in  the  language  of  friendship.  Nor  will 
ills  Satires  be  less  useful  to  the  present  age,  than 
to  that  in  which  they  were  written,  since  he  doei' 
jiot  draw  his  characters  from  particular  person?, 
hut  from  human  nature  itself,  which  is  invariably 
the  same  in  all  ages  and  countries. 


ODES 


p 


ODEa 

BOOK  I. 


ODE  I. 

TO  MiECENAS. 

MAECENAS,  whose  high  lineage  springs 
From  fair  Etruria's  ancient  kings. 
O  thou,  my  patron  and  my  friend; 
On  whom  my  life,  my  fame  depend  , 
In  clouds  th'  Olympic  dust  to  roll. 
To  turn  with  kindling  wheels  the  goal^ 
And  gain  the  palm,  victorious  prize  ! 
Exalt  a  mortal  to  the  tkies. 

This  man,  by  faction  and  debate 
rlais'd  to  the  first  employs  of  state 
Another,  who  from  Lybia's  plain 
vSweeps  to  his  barn  the  various  grain  : 
A  third,  who  with  unwearied  toil 
Ploughs  cheerful  his  paternal  soil; 
While  in  their  several  wishes  blest. 
Not  all  the  wealth  by  kings  possest. 
Shall  tempt,  with  fearfal  souls  to  bran 
The  terrors  of  the  foamy  wave. 

When  load  the  winds  and  waters  wa|^ 
Wild  war  with  elemental  rage, 
Ther  merchaBt  praises  tlte  retrestT 


24  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

The  quiet  of  his  rural  seat ; 
Yef,  want  untutor'd  to  sustain, 
Soon  rigs  his  shatter'd  bark  again. 

No  mean  delights  possess  his  soul, 
With  good  old  wine  who  crowns  his  bowl , 
Whose  early  revels  are  begun 
Ere  half  the  course  of  day  be  run, 
Now,  by  some  sacred  fountain  laid, 
Now,  stretch'd  beneath  some  bowering  shade» 

The  tented  camps  a  soldier  charm, 
Trumpets  and  fifes  his  bosom  warm  ; 
Their  mingled  sounds  with  joy  he'll  hear, 
These  sounds  of  war  which  mothers  fear. 
The  sportsman,  chill'd  by  midnight  Jove> 
Forgets  his  tender,  wedded  love, 
Whether  his  faithful  hounds  pursue. 
And  hold  the  bounding  hind  in  view  ; 
Whether  the  boar  his  hunters  foils, 
A  nd  foaming  breaks  the  spreading  tolls. 

An  ivy-wreath,  fair  Learning's  prize. 
Raises  Maecenas  to  the  skies. 
The  breezy  grove,  the  mazy  round, 
Where  the  light  Nymphs  and  Satyrs  bound 
If  there  the  sacred  Nine  inspire 
The  breathing  flute,  and  strike  the  lyre, 
There  let  me  fix  my  last  retreat, 
Far  from  the  little  vulgar,  and  the  great. 
But  if  you  rank  me  with  the  choir. 
Who  tun'd  with  art  the  Grecian  lyre. 
Swift  to  the  noblest  heights  of  fame 
Shall  rise  thy  poet's  (feat^Jless  name, 


ODES,  BOOK  I.         S: 

ODE  II. 

TO  AUGUSTUS. 

ENOUGH  of  snow  and  hail  in  tempests  dire 
Have  pour'doneaith,  while  Heav'n's  eternal Siio 
With  red  right  arm  at  his  own  temples  hurl'd 
His  thunders,  and  alai-m'd  a  guuly  world. 

Lest  Pyrrha  should  again  wit/i  plaintive  cries 
Behold  the  monsters  of  the  deep  ari.-e. 
When  to  the  mountain -;?nramit  Proteus  drove 
His  sea-born  herd,  and  'vhere  the  cvoodland  dove 
Late  perch'd,  his  wonted  .-oat,  the  scaly  brood 
Entangled  hung  upon  the  topmost  wood, 
And  every  timorous  native  of  the  plain 
High-floating  swam  amid  the  boundles?  main. 

We  saw,  push'd  backward  to  his  native  sourer 
The  yellow  Tiber  roll  his  rapid  course, 
With  impious  ruin  threat'ning  Vesta's  fane, 
And  the  great  monuments  of  iViima's  reign  ; 

With  grief  and  rage  while  Ilia's  bosom  glows 
Boastful,  for  her  revenge,  his  waters  rose : 
But  now,  th'  uxorious  river  glides  away, 
So  Jove  commands,  ?raooth-wincing  to  the  sea. 

And  yet,  less  numerous  by  their  parents'  crime- 
Our  sons  shall  hear,  sliall  near  to  latest  times, 
Of  Roman  arms  with  civil  gore  embru'd, 
Which  better  had  the  Persian  foe  subdu'd. 

Among  her  guardian  gods,  what  pitying  povre-' 
To  raise  her  sinking  state  shall  Rome  implore 
Shall  her  own  hallow'd  virgins'  earnest  pra}> 
Harmonious  charm  offended  Vesta's  ear  ? 
Vol.  L  3 


OtJ  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

To  whom  shall  Jove  assign  to  purge  away 
The  guilty  deed  ?  Come  then,  bright  god  oUhy, 
But  gracious  veil  thy  shoulders  beamy-bright. 
Oh  !  veil  in  clouds  th'  unsufferable  light. 

Or  come,  sweet  queen  of  smiles,  while  round  tliPf 
rove, 
On  wanton  wing,  the  powers  of  mirth  and  love  . 
Or  hither,  Mars,  thine  aspect  gracious  bend, 
And  powerful  thy  neglected  race  defend, 

Parent  of  Rome,  amidst  the  rage  of  fight 
.Sated  with  scenes  of  blood,  thy  fierce  delight. 
Thou,  whom  the  polish'd  helm,  the  noise  of  arms. 
And  the  stern  soldier's  frown  with  transport  warms, 

Or  thou,  fair  Maia's  winged  son,  appear. 
And  human  shape,  in  prime  of  manhood,  wear  ; 
Declar'd  the  guardian  of  th'  imperial  state. 
Divine  avenger  of  great  Cesar's  fate  : 

Oh  !  late  return  to  heav'n,  and  may  thy  reign 
With  lengthened  blessings  fill  thy  wide  domain  : 
Nor  lot  thy  people's  crimesprovoke  thy  fliglif, 
On  air  swift-rising  to  the  realms  of  light. 

Great  prince  and  father  of  the  state,  receive 
The  noblest  triumphs  which  thy  Rome  can  give 
Nor  let  the  Parthian,  with  unpunished  pride, 
Bevond  his  bound's,  O  Caesar,  dare  to  ride. 


ODES,  BOOK  I. 


ODE  III. 

TO  THE  SHIP  IN  WHICH  VIRGIL  SAILED 
TO  ATHENS. 

SO  may  the  Cyprian  queen  divine 
\^nd  the  twin-stars  with  saving  lustre  shine  ; 

So  may  the  father  of  the  wind 
All  others,  but  the  western  breezes,  bind, 
As  3-0U,  dear  vessel,  safe  restore 
•  Th'  entrusted  pledge  to  th'  Athenian  shore, 
And  of  my  soul  the  partner  save , 
My  much-lov'd  Virgil,  from  the  raging  wave. 

Or  oak,  or  brass,  with  triple  fold. 
Around  that  daring  mortal's  bosom  roll'd, 

Who  first  to  the  wild  ocean's  rage 
Launch'd  the  frail  bark,  and  heard  the  wind's  en- 
gage 
Tempestiibus,  when  the  South  descends 
Precipitate,  and  with  the  North  contends  ; 

Nor  fear'd  the  stars  portending  rain. 
Nor  the  loud  tyrant  of  the  western  main, 

Of  power  supreme  the  storm  to  rai?e, 
Or  calmer  smooth  the  surface  of  the  seas. 

AVhat  various  forms  of  death  could  fright 
The  man,  who  view'd  withlix'd,  unshaken  sight, 

The  floating  monsters,  waves  inflam'd. 
And  rocks  for  shipwreck'd  fleets  ill-fam'd  1 

Jove  has  the  realms  of  earth  in  vain 
©ivided  by  th'  inhabitable  main, 

If  ships  profane,  with  fearless  pride. 
Found  o'er  th'  inviolable  tide. 


:S  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

No  laws,  or  human  or  divine, 
Can  the  presumptuous  race  of  man  confine. 

Thus,  from  the  sun's  ethereal  beam 
When  bold  Prometheus  stole  th'  enlivening  flamr- 

Of  fevers  dire  a  ghastly  brood, 
Till  then  unknown,  th'  unhappy  fraud  pursu'd , 

On  earth  their  horrors  baleful  spread, 
And  the  pale  monarch  of  the  dead, 

Till  then  slow-moving  to  his  prey, 
Precipitately  rapid  swept  his  way. 

Thus  did  the  venturous  Cretan  dare 
To  tempt,  with  impious  wings,  the  void  of  air  ; 

Through  hell  Alcides  urg'd  his  course  : 
rs"o  work  too  high  for  man's  audacious  force. 

Our  folly  would  attempt  the  skies, 
And  with  gigantic  boldness  im.pious  rise  ; 

Nor  Jove,  provok'd  by  mortal  pride. 
Can  lay  his  angry  thunderbolts  aside. 


ODES,  BOOK  I. 

ODE  IV. 
TO  SESTIUS. 


FIERCE  winter  melts  in  vernal  gales, 
And  grateful  zephyrs  fill  the  spreading  sail»  ; 

No  more  the  ploughman  loves  his  fire. 
No  more  the  lowing  herds  their  stalls  desire, 

While  earth  her  richest  verdure  yields, 
Nor  hoary  frosts  now  whiten  o'er  the  fields. 

Now  joyous  through  the  verdant  meads. 
Beneath  the  rising  moon,  fair  Venus  leads 

Her  various  dance,  and  with  her  train 
Of  Nymphs  and  modest  Graces  shakes  the  plain . 

While  Vulcan's  glowing  breath  inspires 
The  toilsome  forge,  and  blows  up  all  its  fires. 

Now  crown 'd  with  myrtle,  or  the  flowers 
Which  the  glad  earth  from  her  free  bosom  p'^oui'?,. 

We'll  offer,  in  the  shady  grove, 
Or  lamb,  or  kid,  as  Pan  shall  best  approve. 

With  equal  pace  impartial  Fate 
Knocks  at  the  palace  as  the  cottage  gate  ; 

Nor  should  our  sum  of  life  extend 
Our  growing  hopes  beyond  their  destin'd  end. 

When  sunk  to  Pluto's  shadowy  coasts, 
Opprest  with  darkness  and  the  fabled  ghosts,. 

No  more  the  dice  shall  there  asi^ign 
To  thee  the  jovial  monarchy  of  wine. 

No  more  shall  yoa  the  fair  admire, 
The  virgins'  envy,  and  the  youth's  desire. 


3©  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  V. 
TO  PYRRHA. 

WHILE  liquid  odours  round  him  breathe. 
What  youth,  the  rosy  bower  beneath, 

Now  courts  thee  to  be  kind  ? 
Pyrrha,  for  whose  unwary  heart 
Do  you,  thus  drest  with  careless  art, 

Your  yellow  tresses  bind  ? 

How  often  shall  th'  unpractis'd  youtli 
Of  alter'd  gods,  and  injur'd  truth, 

With  tears,  alas  !  complain  ? 
How  soon  behold  with  wondering  eyes 
The  black'ning  winds  tempestuous  rise. 

And  scowl  along  the  main  ? 

While,  by  his  easy  faith  betray'd, 
He  new  enjoys  thee,  golden  maid, 

Thus  amiable  and  kind  ; 
He  fondly  hopes  that  you  shall  prove 
Thus  ever  vacant  to  his  love, 

Nor  heeds  the  faithless  wind. 

Unhappy  they,  to  whom,  untried, 
You  shine,  alas  !  in  beauty's  pride  ; 

While  I,  now  saf«  on  sliore. 
Will  consecrate  the  pictured  storm, 
And  all  my  grateful  vows  perfornj 

To  Neptune's  saving  power. 


ODES,  BOOK  I. 

ODE  YI. 
TO  AGRIPPA. 

VARIUS,who  soars  on  Homers  wing'; 
Agrippa,  shall  thy  conquests  sing, 
Whate'er,  inspired  by  his  command, 
The  soldier  dar'd  on  sea  or  land. 

But  we  nor  tempt  with  feeble  art 
Achilles'  unrelenting  heart, 
Nor  sage  Ulysses  in  our  lays 
Pursues  his  wanderings  through  the  seas  ; 
Nor  ours  in  tragic  strains  to  tell 
How  Pelops' cruel  offspring  fell. 

The  Muse,  who  rules  th'  unwarlike  lyre. 
Forbids  me  boldly  to  aspire 
To  thine  or  sacred  Caesar's  fame. 
And  hurt  with  feeble  song  the  theme. 

Who  can  describe  the  god  of  fight 
In  adamantine  armour  bright ; 
Or  Merion  on  the  Trojan  shore 
With  dust,  how  glorious  !  cover'd  o'er  ; 
Or  Diomed,  by  Pallas'  aid, 
To  warring  gods  an  equal  made  ? 

But  whether  loving,  whether  free, 
With  all  our  usual  levity. 
Untaught  to  strike  the  martial  string. 
Of  feasts  and  virgin  fights  we  sing; 
Of  maids,  who,  when  bold  love  assails. 
Fierce  in  their  anger — pare  their  nails. 


30  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  vn. 

TO  MUNATIUS  PLANCUB. 

LET  other  poets  in  harmonious  lays 
Immortal  Rhodes  or  Mitylene  praise, 
Or  Ephesus,  or  Corinth's  towery  pride, 
Girt  by  the  rolling  main  on  either  side  ; 
Or  Thebes,  or  Delphos.  for  their  gods  renown'd. 
Or  Tempe's  plains  wit!)  flowery  honours  crown'd. 

There  are,  who  sing  in  everlasting  strains 
The  towers  where  wisdom's  virgin-goddess  reigns. 
And  ceaseless  toiling  court  the  trite  reward 
Of  olive,  pluck'd  by  every  \-ulgar  bard. 
For  Juno's  fame,  th'  unnumber'd  tuneful  throng 
With  rich  Mycenae  grace  their  favourite  song, 
And  A.rgos  boast,  of  pregnant  glebe  to  feed 
The  warlike  horse,  and  animate  t'le  breed  : 
But  me,  nor  patient  Lacedsmon  charms. 
Nor  fair  Larissa  with  such  transport  warms, 
As  pure  Albunea's  far- resounding  source, 
And  rapid  Anio,  headlong  in  his  course, 
Or  Tibur,  fenc'd  by  groves  from  solar  beams, 
And  fruitful  orchards  bath'd  by  ductile  streams. 
.i    #*****#***» 
The  south  wind  often,  when  the  welkin  lowers, 
Sweeps  off  the  clouds,  nor  teems  perpetual  showers 
So,  Plancus,  be  the  happy  w^isdom  thine, 
To  end  the  cares  of  life  in  mellow'd  wine  ; 
Whether  the  camp  v/ith  banners  bright  display'd. 
Or  Tibur  hold  thee  in  its  thick-wrought  shade. 
When  Teucer  from  his  sire  and  country  fled,. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  33 

With  poplar  wreaths  the  hero  crown'd  his  head, 
Reeking  with  wine,  and  thus  his  friends  address'*!,. 
Deep  sorrow  brooding  in  each  anxious  breast  : 
Bold  let  us  follow  through  the  foamy  tides, 
Where  Fortune,  better  than  a  father,  guides  ; 
AvauQt,  despair  !  when  Teucer  calls  to  fame, 
The  same  your  augur,  and  your  guide  the  same. 
Another  Salamis,  in  foreign  clime. 
With  rival  pride  shall  raise  her  head  sublime  ; 
SoPhcebus  nods  :  Ye  sons  of  valour  true, 
Full  often  tried  in  deeds  of  deadlier  hue. 
To-day  with  wine  drive  every  care  away, 
To-morrow  tempt  again  the  boundless  sea. 


■M  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  VIII. 
TO  LYDIA. 

BY  the  gods,  my  Lydia,  tell; 
Ah  !  why,  by  lovmg  him  too  well, 

Why  you  hasten  to  destroy 
Young  Sybaris.  too  am'rous  boy  ? 

Why  he  hates  the  sunny  plain, 
Wiiile  he  can  sun  or  dust  sustain  ? 

Why  no  more,  with  martial  pride, 
Does  he  among  his  equals  ride  ; 

Or  the  Gallic  steed  command 
With  bitted  curb  and  forming  hand  ? 

More  than  viper's  baleful  blood 
Why  does  he  fear  the  yellow  flood  ? 

Why  detest  the  wrestler's  oil, 
While  firm  to  bear  the  manly  toil  ? 

Where  are  now  the  livid  scars 
Of  sportive,  nor  inglorious,  wars, 

When  for  the  quoit,  with  vigour  thrown 
Beyond  the  mark,  his  fame  was  known  ? 

Tell  us,  why  this  fond  disguise, 
In  which  like  Thetis'  son  he  lies, 

Ere  unhappy  Troy  had  shed 
Her  funeral  sorrows  for  the  dead. 

Lest  a  manly  dress  should  fire 
His  soul  to  war  and  carnage  dire. 


ODES,  BOOK  I. 

ODE  IX. 

TO  THALIARCHUS. 

BEHOLD  Soracte's  airy  height, 

See  how  it  stands  a  heap  of  snow  ; 
Behold  the  winter's  hoary  weight 

Oppress  the  labouring  woods  below  ; 
And,  by  the  season's  icy  hand 
Congeal'd,  the  lazy  rivers  stand. 

Now  melt  away  the  winter's  cold, 
And  larger  pile  the  cheerful  fire  ; 

Bring  down  the  vintage  four-year-old, 
Whose  mellowed  heat  can  mirth  inspire 

Then  to  the  guardian  powers  divine 

Careless  the  rest  of  life  resign  : 

For,  when  the  warring  winds  arise, 
And  o'er  the  fervid  ocean  sweep, 

They  speak — and  lo !  the  tempest  dies 
On  the  smooth  bosom  of  the  deep  ; 

Unshaken  stands  the  aged  grove, 

And  feels  the  providence  of  Jove. 

To-morrow  with  its  cares  despise, 
And  make  the  present  hour  your  own, 

Be  swift  to  catch  it  as  it  flies, 
And  score  it  up  as  clearly  won  ; 

Nor  let  your  youth  disdain  to  prove 

The  joys  of  dancing  and  of  love. 


36  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Now  let  the  grateful  evening  shade, 
The  public  walks,  the  public  park, 

An  assignation  sweetly  made 
With  gentle  whispers  in  the  dark  : 

While  age  morose  thy  vigour  spares, 

Be  these  thy  pleasures,  these  thy  cares. 

The  laugh,  that  from  the  comer  flies, 
The  sportive  fair-one  r-hall  betray  ; 

Then  boldly  snatch  the  joyful  prize  ; 
A  ring  or  bracelet  tear  away, 

While  she,  not  too  severely  coy. 

Struggling  shall  yield  the  williDg  toy. 


ODES,  BOOK  1.  3/ 

ODE  X. 
HYMN  TO  IVIERCURY. 

I  SING  the  god,  whose  arts  refin'd 
The  savage  race  of  human  kind. 
By  eloquence  their  passions  charm'd, 
By  exercise  their  bodies  form'd  : 
Hail,  winged  messenger  of  Jove 
And  all  th'  immortal  powers  above, 
Sweet  parent  of  the  bending  lyre, 
Thy  praise  shall  all  its  sounds  inspire. 

Artful  and  cunning  ro  conceal 
Whafor  in  sportive  theft  you  steal, 
When  from  the  god  who  gilds  the  pole, 
Even  yet  a  boy,  his  herds  you  stole, 
With  angry  voice  the  threatening  power 
Bad  thee  the  fraudful  prey  restore  ; 
But  of  his  quiver  too  beguil'd, 
Pleas'd  with  the  theft  Appollo  smil'd. 

You  were  the  v/ealthy  Priam's  guide 
When  safe  from  Agamemnon's  pride. 
Through  hostile  camps,  which  round  him  spread 
Their  watchful  fires,  his  way  he  sped. 
Unspotted  spirits  you  consign 
To  blissful  seats  and  joys  divine, 
And  powerful  with  your  golden  wand 
The  light,  unbodied  crowd  command  : 
Thus  grateful  does  your  office  prove 
To  gods  below,  and  gods  above. 


••\t  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  XI. 

TO  LEUCONOE. 

STRIVE  not,  Leuconoe,  to  pry 

Into  the  secret  will  of  fate, 
Nor  impious  magic  vainly  try, 

To  know  our  lives'  uncertain  date  ; 

Whether  th'  indulgent  power  divine 
Hath  many  seasons  yet  in  store, 

Or  this  the  latest  winter  thine. 
Which  hreaks  its  waves  against  the  shore. 

Thy  life  with  wiser  arts  be  crown'd. 
Thy  filter'd  wines  abundant  pour  ; 

The  lengihen'd  hope  with  prudence  bound 
Proportion'd  to  the  flying  hour ; 

Even  while  we  talk  in  careless  ease, 
Our  envious  minutes  wing  their  flight ; 

Then  swift  the  fleeting  pleasure  seize^ 
iNor  trust  to-morrow's  doubtful  light. 


ODES,  BOOK  r.  30 

ODE  XII. 

HYMN  TO  JOVE. 

WHAT  man,  what  hero,  on  tlie  tuneful  lyre, 
Or  sharp-ton'd  flute,  will  Clio  choose  to  raise 
Deathless  to  fame  ?     What  god  ?    whose  hallow  d 
name 

The  sportive  image  of  the  voice 
Shall  in  the  shades  of  Helicon  repeat, 
On  Pindus,  or  on  Haemus,  ever  cool. 
From  whence  the  forests  in  confusion  rose 

To  follow  Orpheus  and  his  song  : 
He,  by  his  mother's  art,  with  soft  delay 
Could  stop  the  river's  rapid  lapse,  or  check 
The  winged  winds  ;  with  strings  of  concord  sweet 

Powerful  the  listening  oaks  to  lead. 
Claims  not  th'  eternal  Sire  his  wonted  praise  ? 
Awful  who  reigns  o'er  gods  and  men  supreme,. 
Who  .=!ea  and  earth — this  universal  globe 

With  grateful  change  of  seasons  guides  ; 
From  whom  no  Leing  of  superior  power, 
Nothing  of  equal,  second  glory,  springs, 
Yet  first  of  all  his  progeny  divine 

Immortal  honours  Pallas  claims  : 
God  of  the  vine,  in  deeds  of  valour  bold, 
Fair  virgin-huntress  of  the  savage  race. 
And  Phcebus,  dreadful  with  unerring  dart, 
;    Nor  will  I  not  your  praise  proclaim. 
Alcides'  labours,  and  fair  Leda's  twins, 
Fam'd  for  the  rapid  race,  for  wrestling  fam'd, 
•■r;r,ll  grace  my  song  ;  soon  as  whose  star  benign 

rhrfiugh  the  fierce  (empest  shipes  serene, 


40  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Swift  from  the  rocks  down  foams  the  broken  surge. 
Calm  are  the  winds,  the  driving  clouds  disperse, 
And  all  the  throatning  waves,  so  will  the  gods, 

Smooth  sink  upon  the  peaceful  deep. 
Here  stops  the  song,  doubtful  whom  next  to  praise^ 
Or  Romulus,  or  Numa's  peaceful  reign, 
The  haughty  ensigns  of  a  Tarquin's  throne, 

Or  Cato,  glorious  in  his  fall. 
Grateful  in  higher  tone  the  Muse  shall  sing 
The  fate  of  Regulus.  the  Scaurian  race. 
And  Paulus;  'midst  the  waste  of  Cannae's  field. 

How  greatly  prodigal  of  life ! 
Form'd  by  the  hand  of  penury  severe, 
In  dwellings  suited  to  their  small  demesne, 
Fabricius,  Curius,  and  Cnmillus  rose  ; 

To  deeds  of  martial  glory  rose. 
Marcellus,  like  a  youthful  tree,  of  growth 
Insensible,  high  shoots  his  spreading  fame, 
And  like  the  moon,  the  feebler  fires  among, 

Conspicuous  shines  the  Julian  star. 
Saturnian  Jove,  parent  and  guardian  god 
Of  human  race,  to  thee  the  fates  assign 
The  care  of  Caesar's  reign  ;  to  thine  alone 

Inferior  let  his  empire  rise ; 
Whether  the  Parthian's  formidable  powers. 
Or  farthest  India's  oriental  sons. 
With  suppliant  pride  beneath  his  triumph  fall. 

Wide  o'er  a  willing  world  shall  he 
Contented  reign,  and  to  thy  throne  shall  bend 
Submissive,     Thou  in  thy  tremendous  car 
Shalt  shake  Olympus'  head,  and  at  our  groves 

Poluted,  hurl  thy  dreadful  bolts. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  41 

ODE  xin. 
TO  LYDIA. 

AH '.  when  on  Telephus  his  charms,. 
When  on  his  rosy  neck  and  waxen  arms, 

Lydia  with  ceaseless  rapture  dwells. 
With  jealous  spleen  my  glowing  bosom  swells, 

My  reason  in  confusion  flies, 
And  on  my  cheek  th'  uncertain  colour  dies, 

While  the  down-stealing  tear  betrays 
The  lingering  flame,  that  on  my  vitals  preys. 

I  burn,  when  in  excess  of  wine. 
Brutal,  he  soils  those  snowy  arms  of  thine, 

Or  on  thy  lips  the  fierce-fond  boy 
Impresses  with  his  teeth  the  furious  joy. 

If  yet  my  voice  can  reach  your  ear, 
Hope  not  to  find  him  constant  and  sincere,. 

Cruel  who  hurts  the  fragrant  kiss, 
Which  Venus  bathes  with  quintessence  of  bliss. 

Thrice  happy  they,  whom  love  unites 
In  equal  rapture,  and  sincere  delights, 

Unbroken  by  complaints  or  strife, 
Even  to  the  latest  hours  of  life. 


V©T,,   J. 


42  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XIV. 

TO  THE  REPUBLIC. 

UNHAPPY  vessel  !  shall  the  waves  again 
Tumultuous  bear  thee  to  the  faithless  main  ? 
What  would  th>   madness,  thus  with  storms  to 

sport ! 
Cast  firm  your  anchor  in  the  friendly  port. 
Behold  thy  naked  decks  ;  the  wounded  mast 
And  sail-yards  groan  beneath  the  southern  blast, 
Nor  without  ropes  thy  keel  can  longer  brave 
The  rushing  fury  of  th'  imperious  wave  : 
Torn  are  thy  sails,  thy  guardian  gods  are  lost, 
Whom  you  might  call  in  future  tempests  tost. 
What  though  majestic  in  your  pride  you  stood 
A  noble  daughter  of  the  Pontic  wood. 
You  now  may  vainly  boast  an  empty  name. 
Or  birth  conspicuous  in  the  rolls  of  faij.e. 
The  mariner,  when  storms  around  him  rise, 
No  longer  on  a  painted  stern  relies. 
Ah  !  yet  take  heed,  lest  tliesc  new  tempests  sweep 
In  sportive  rage  thy  glories  to  the  deep. 
Thou  late  my  deep  anxiety  and  fear. 
And  now  my  fond  desire  and  tender  care, 
Ah  !  yet  take  heed,  avoid  those  fatal  seas 
That  roll  among  the  shining  Cyclades. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.         43 

ODE  XV. 
THE  PROPHECY  OF  NEREU>S. 

WHEN  the  perfidious  shepherd  bore 
The  Spartan  dame  to  Asia's  shore, 
Nereus  the  rapid  winds  oppress'd, 
And  calm'd  them  to  unwilling  rest, 
That  he  might  sing  the  dreadful  fate 
Which  should  their  guilty  loves  await. 

Fatal  to  Priam's  ancient  sway 
You  bear  th'  ill-omen'd  fair  away ; 
For  soon  shall  Greece  in  arms  arise, 
Deep-sworn  to  break  thy  nuptial  ties. 
What  toils  do  men  and  horse  sustain  ! 
What  carnage  loads  the  Dardan  plain ! 
Pallas  prepares  the  bounding  car, 
The  shield  and  helm  and  ra^e  of  war. 
Though  proud  of  Venus'  guardian  care, 
In  vain  you  comb  your  flowing  hair  ; 
In  vain  you  sweep  th'  un  war  like  string, 
And  tender  airs  to  females  sing  ; 
For  though  the  dart  may  harmless  prove 
(The  dart  that  frights  the  bed  of  love ;) 
Though  you  escape  the  noise  of  fight, 
Nor  Ajax  can  o'ertake  thy  flight ; 
Yet  shalt  thou,  infamous  of  lust, 
Spil  those  adulterous  hairs  in  dust. 

Look  back  and  see,  with  furious  pace. 
That  ruin  of  the  Trojan  race, 
Ulysses  drives,  and  sage  in  years 
Fam'd  Nestor,  hoarj  chief,  appeare. 


U  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

Intrepid  Teucer  sweeps  the  field, 
AndSthenelus,  in  battle  skiU'd  ; 
Or  skill'd  to  guide  with  steady  rein.. 
And  pour  his  chariot  o'er  the  plain. 
Undaunted  Merion  shalt  thou  feel ; 
While  Diomed  with  furious  steel, 
In  arms  superior  to  his  sire, 
Burns  after  thee  with  martial  fire. 

As  when  a  stag  at  distance  spies 
A  prowling  wolf,  aghast  he  flies 
Of  pasture  heedless  ;  so  shall  you, 
High-panting,  fly  when  they  pursue. 
Not  such  the  promises  you  made, 
Which  Helen's  easy  heart  betray'd. 
Achilles'  fleet  with  short  delay 
Vengeful  protracts  the  fatal  day  ; 
But  when  ten  rolling  years  expire, 
Thy  Troy  shall  blaze  in  Grecian  fire. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.         40 

ODE  XVI. 
TO  TYNDARIS. 

DAUGHTER,  whose  loveliness  the  bosom  warms 
More  than  thy  lovely  mother's  riper  charms, 
Give  to  my  bold  lampoons  what  fate  you  please, 
To  wasting  flames  condemn'd,  or  angry  seas. 

But  yet  remember,  nor  the  god  of  wine. 
Nor  Pythian  Phoebus  from  his  inmost  shrine, 
Nor  Diudymene,  nor  her  priests  possest. 
Can  with  their  sounding  cymbals  shake  the  breast 

Like  furious  anger  in  its  gloomy  vein, 
Which  neither  temper'd  sword,  nor  raging  male, 
Nor  fire  wide-wasting,  nor  tremendous  Jove 
Rushing  in  baleful  thunders  from  above. 

Can  tame  to  fear.     Thus  sings  the  poet's  lay — 
Prometheus  to  inform  his  nobler  clay 
Their  various  passions  chose  from  ev'ry  beast, 
And  with  the  lion's  rage  inspired  the  human  breast 

From  anger  all  the  tragic  horrors  rose, 
That  crush'd  Thyestes  with  a  weight  of  woes  ; 
From  hence  proud  cities  date  their  utter  falls, 
When,  insolent  in  ruin,  o'er  their  walls 

The  wrathful  soldier  drags  the  hostile  plough. 
That  haughty  mark  of  total  overthrow. 
Me  too  in  youth  the  heat  of  anger  fir'd, 
And  with  the  rapid  rage  of  rhyme  inspired 

But  now  repentant,  shall  the  Muse  again 
To  softernumbers  tune  her  melting  strain, 
So  thou  recall  thy  threats,  thy  wrath  controul, 
Rusume  thy  love,  and  give  me  back  my  soul. 


4i5  THE  WORKS  OP  HORACE- 


ODE  XVU. 

TO  TYNDARIS. 

PAN  from  Arcadia's  hills  descends 

To  visit  oft  my  Sabine  seat, 
And  here  my  tender  goats  defends 

From  rainy  winds,  and  summer's  fiery  heat  ; 

For  when  the  vales,  wide-spreading  round, 
The  sloping  hills,  and  polish'd  rocks 

With  his  harmonious  pipe  resound, 
In  fearless  safety  graze  my  wandering  flock»  ; 

In  safety,  through  the  woody  brake, 
The  latent  shrubs  and  thyme  explore, 

Nor  longer  dread  the  speckled  snake. 
And  tremble  at  the  martial  wolf  no  more. 

Their  poet  to  the  gods  is  dear, 

They  love  his  piety  and  muse, 
And  all  our  rural  honours  here 

Their  flow'ry  wealth  around  thee  shall  diffuse. 

Here  shall  you  tune  Anacreon's  lyre, 
Beneath  a  shady  mountain's  brow, 

To  sing  fraiUJirce's  guilty  fire. 

And  chaste  Penelope's  unbroken  vow. 

Far  from  the  burning  dog-star's  rage 

Here  shall  you  quaff" our  harmless  wine; 

Nor  here  shall  Mars  inteinperate  wage 

Rude  war  with  him  who  rules  tlie  jovial  vine  : 

iSor  C3'rus'  bold  suspicions  fear  ; 

Not  on  thy  sotfness  shall  he  lay 
His  desperate  hand,  thy  clothes  to  tear, 

Or  brutal  snatch  thy  festal  crown  away. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  47 

ODE  XVIII. 
TO  VARUS. 

ROUND  Catilus'  walls,  orinTibur's  rich  soil, 
To  plant  the  glad  vine  be  my  Varus'  first  toil ; 
For  God  hath  propos'd  to  the  wretch  who's  athirst 
To  drink,  or  with  heart-gnawing  cares  to  he  curst 
Of  war,  or  of  want,  who  e'er  prates  o'er  his  wine  ? 
For  'tis  thine,  father  Bacchus  ;  bright  Venus,  'tis 

thine, 
To  charm  all  his  cares.     Yet  that  no  one  may  pas.« 
The  freedom  and  mirth  of  a  temperate  glass, 
Let  us  think  on  the  Lapithae's  quarrels  so  dire, 
And  the  Thracians,  whom  wine  can  to  madness  in- 
spire : 
Insatiate  of  liquor  when  glow  their  full  veins, 
No  distinction  of  vice  or  of  virtue  remains. 

Great  god  of  the  vine,  who  dost  candour  approve. 
I  ne'er  will  thy  statues  profanely  remove ; 
I  ne'er  will  thy  rites,  so  mysterious,  betray 
To  the  broad-glaring  eye  of  the  tale-telling  day. 
Oh  I  stop  the  loud  cymbal,  the  cornet's  alarms, 
Whose    sound,   when  the    Bacchanal's    bosom    ii 

warms, 
Arouses  self-love,  by  blindness  misled, 
And  vanity,  lifting  aloft  the  light  head. 
And  honour,  of  prodigal  spirit,  that  shows, 
Transparent  as  glass,  all  the  secrets  it  know,?. 


48  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  XIX. 
ON  GLYCERA. 

VENUS,  who  gave  the  Cupids  birth, 
And  the  resistless  god  of  wine, 

With  the  gay  power  of  wanton  mirth. 
Now  bid  my  heart  its  peace  resign  ; 

Again  for  Glycera  I  burn, 
And  all  my  long-forgotten  flames  return. 

Like  Parian  marble  pure  and  bright, 

The  shining  maid  my  bosom  warms ; 
Her  face,  too  dazzling  for  the  sight, 

Her  sweet  coquetting — how  it  charms  1 
Whole  Venus  rushing  through  my  veins, 
No  longer  in  her  favourite  Cyprus  reigns  ; 

No  longer  suffers  me  to  write 

Of  Scythians,  fierce  in  martial  deed. 
Or  Parthian,  urging  in  his  flight 

The  battle  with  reverted  steed  : 
Such  themes  she  will  no  more  approve, 
Nor  aught  that  sounds  impertinent  to  love. 

Here  let  the  living  altar  rise 

Adorn'd  with  every  herb  and  flower  ; 
Here  flame  the  incense  to  the  skies, 
And  purest  wine's  libation  pour ; 
Due  honours  to  the  goddess  paid, 
3©ft  sinks  to  willing  love  the  yielding  maid. 


ODES;  BOOK  I.         4^ 

ODE  XX. 
TO  MAECENAS. 

1  POET'S  beverage,  vile  and  cheap 
(Should  great  Maecenas  be  mv  guest  4 
*.rude  vintage  of  the  Sabine  grape,        ' 
But  yet  in  sober  cups,  shall  crown  the  feasi  :        • 

•Tvvas  rack'd  into  a  Grecian  cask, 
Its  rougher  juice  to  melt  awav  : 
I  seal'd  it  too— a  pleasing  task  I 

With  annual  joy  to  mark  the  glorious  dav, 

When  in  applausive  shouts  thy  name 

Spread  from  the  theatre  around, 
Floating  on  thy  own  Tiber's  stream, 

And  Echo,  playful  nymph,  return'd  the  sound 
From  the  Caecubian  vintage    prest 

For  you  shall  flow  the  racy  wine  ■ 
But  ah  !  my  meagre  cup's  unblest 

With  the  rich  Formiau  or  Falernlaa  vin^^ 


'For  (he  TWENTY  FIRST  Opr 

Secular  Pcem."] 


Vol.  I. 


-f^  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACi-. 

ODE  XXII.1 

TO  ARISTIUS  FUSCUS- 

THE  man  who  knows  not  guilty  fear 
Nor  wants  the  bow  nor  pointed  spear ; 
Nor  needs,  while  innocent  of  heart, 
•  The  quiver  teeming  with  thepoison'd  dair. 

Whether  through  Libya's  burning  sands 
His  journey  leads,  or  Scythia's  fend.^. 
Inhospitable  waste  of  snows, 
Or  where  the  fabulous  Hydaspes  flows 

For  musing  on  my  lovely  maid 
While.careless  in  the  woods  I  stray'd, 
A  wolf— how  dreadful !  cross'd  my  way^ 
iTet  fled — he  fled  from  his  defenceless  prey 

No  beast  of  such  portentous  size 
In  warlike  Daunia's  forests  lies, 
Nor  sucli  the  tawny  lion  I'eigns 
Fierce  on  his  native  Afvic's  thirsty  plains. 

Place  me,  where  never  summer  breeze 
Unbinds  the  glebe,  or  warms  the  trees  , 
Where  ever-lowering  clouds  appear. 
And  angry  Jove  deforms  th*  inclement  year 

Place  me  beneath  the  burning  ray, 
Where  rolls  the  rapid  car  of  day  ; 
Love  and  the  nymph  shall  charm  my  toils, 
The  nymph  who  sweetly  speaks  and  sweetly  smiU-t 


Mm 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  51 

ODE  XXIII. 
TO  CHLOE. 


CHLOE  flies  me  like  a  fawn, 
Which  through  some  sequester'd  lawn 
Panting  seeks  the  mother-deer, 
Not  without  a  panic  fear 
Of  the  gently-breathing  breeze, 
And  the  motion  of  the  trees. 
If  the  curling  leares  but  shake, 
If  a  lizard  stir  the  brake, 
Flighted  it  begins  to  freeze, 
Trembling  both  at  heart  and  knees. 
But  not  like  a  tiger  dire, 
Nor  a  lion  fraught  with  ire, 
I  pursue  my  lovely  game 
To  destroy  her  tender  frame. 
Haste  thee,  leave  thy  mother's  arms ; 
■^'  re  for  love  are  all  thy  charms. 


ODE  XXIV. 

TO  VIRGIL. 

V  HEREFORE  restrain  the  tender  tear  ? 
Vhy  blush  to  weep  for  one  so  dear  ? 
iweet  muse,  of  melting  voice  and  lyre, 
>o  thou  the  mornful  song  inspire. 
'j  intiliiis— «— sunk  to  endless  rest, 


52  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

With  death's  eternal  sleep  opprest ! 

Oh !  when  shall  Faith,  of  soul  sincere, 

Of  Justice  pure  the  sister  fair, 

And  Modesty,  unspotted  maid, 

And  Truth  in  artless  guise  array 'd, 

Among  the  race  of  human  kind 

An  equal  to  Quintilius  find  ? 
How  did  the  good,  the  virtuous  monni^ 

And  pour  their  sorrows  o'er  his  urn ! 

But,  Virgil,  thine  the  loudest  strain. 

Yet  all  thy  pious  grief  is  vain  ; 

In  vain  do  you  the  gods  implore 

Thy  lov'd  Quintilius  to  restore, 

Whom  on  far  ©ther  terms  they  gave, 

By  nature  fated  to  the  grave. 
What  though  you  can  the  lyre  commanC 

And  sweep  its  tones  with  softer  hand 

Than  Orpheus,  whose  harmonious  song 

Once  drew  the  listening  trees  along, 

Yet  ne'er  returns  the  vital  heat 

The  shadowy  form  to  animate  ; 

For  when  the  ghost-compelling  god 
Forms  his  black  troops  with  horrid  rod;. 
He  will  not,  lenient  to  the  breath 
Of  prayer,  unbar  the  gates  of  death. 
'  Tis  hard  :  but  patience  must  endure* 
\ndsX)TOth  the  woes  it  cannot  cure. 


Mi 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  55 

ODE  XXV. 

TO  LYDU, 

THE  wanton  herd  of  rakes  profest 
Thy  windows  rarely  now  molest. 
"Witli  midnight  raps,  or  break  thy  rest 

With  riot^ 
The  door,  that  kindly  once  could  move 
The  pliant  hinge,  begins  to  love 
Uj  threshold,  and  no  more  shall  prove 

Unquiet. 

ftow  less  and  less  assail  thine  ear 

These  plaints,  "  Ah,  sleepest  thou,  my  dear 

^  While  I  whole  nights,  thy  true-love,  here 

''  Am  dying  1" 
You  in  your  turn  shall  weep  the  taunts 
Of  young  and  insolent  gallants, 
Jn  abme  dark  alley's  midnight  haunts 

Late  plying  : 

While  raging  tempests  chill  the  skies, 
And  burning  lust  (such  lust  as  tries 
The  madding  dams  of  horses)  fries 

Thy  liver ; 
Our  youth,  regardless  of  thy  frown, 
Their  heads  with  fresher  wreaths  shall  crcJwnj 
-itrrd  fljug  tJiy  wither'd  garlands  down 

The  river. 


54  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE, 

ODE  XXVI. 

TO  HIS  MUSE. 

WHILE  in  the  Muse's  friendship  blest 
Nor  fear  nor  grief  shall  break  my  rest; 
Bear  them,  ye  vagrant  winds,  away 
And  drown  them  in  the  Cretan  sea. 

Careless  am  I,  or  who  shall  reign 
The  tyrant  of  the  Scythian  plain, 
Or  with  what  anxious  fear  opprest 
Heaves  Tiridates'  panting  breast. 

Sweet  Muse,  who  lov'st  the  virgin  spiiiii 
Hither  thy  sunny  flow'rets bring. 
And  let  thy  richest  chaplet  shed 
Tts  fragrance  round  my  Lamia's  head  ; 
For  nought  avails  the  poet's  praise, 
Unless  the  Muse  inspire  his  lays. 

Oh !  string  the  Lesbian  lyre  again. 
Let  all  thy  sisters  raise  the  strain, 
And  consecrate  to  deathless  fame 
Mv  lov'd.my  Lamia's  honour'd  name^ 


ODES,  BOOK  r.  ^'' 

ODE  XXVII. 

TO  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

WITH  glasses  made  for  gay  delight 
'TisThracian,  savage  rage  to  fight. 
With  such  intemperate^  bloody  fray 
Fright  not  the  modest  god  away. 

Monstrous  !  to  see  the  dagger  shiiir 
Amidst  the  midnight  joys  of  wine. 
Here  bid  this  impious  clamour  cease,, 
And  press  the  social  couch  in  peace, 

Say,  shall  I  drink  this  heady  winC; 
Pressed  from  the  rough  Falernian  vine 
Instant,  let  yonder  youth  impart 
The  tender  story  of  his  heart, 
By  what  dear  wound  he  blissful  dies,. 
And  whence  the  gentle  arrow  flies. 

What  I  does  the  bashful  boy  deny 
Then;  if  I  drink  it  let  me  die. 
WJioe'er  she  be,  a  generous  flame 
Can  never  know  the  blush  of  shame. 
Thy  breast  no  slave-born  Venus  fires 
But  fair,  ingenuous  love  inspires. 
Then  safely  whisper  in  my  ear, 
For  all  such  trusts  are  sacred  here. 

Ah  !  worthy  of  a  better  flame  ! 
Unhappy  youth !  is  she  the  dame  ? 
Unhappy  youth  1  how  art  thou  lost. 
In  what  a  sea  of  troubles  tost ! 
What  drugs,  what  witchcraft,  or  whatch»>Ti)s 
What  god,  can  free  thee  from  her  arms  ? 
Scarce  Pegasus  can  disengage 
Thy  heart  from  this  Chimaera's  x^ze. 


THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  XXVIII. 

,V  .MARINER  AND  THE  GHOST  01' 
ARCHYTAS. 

Mariner, 
ARCHYTAS,  wHkt  avails  thy  nice  survey 
Of  ocean's  countless  sands,  of  earth  and  sea? 
In  vain  thy  mighty  spirit  once  could  soar 
To  orbs  celestial,  and  their  course  explore  ; 
If  here,  upon  the  tempest-beaten  strand, 
You  lie  eonfin'd,  till  some  more  liberal  hand 
Shall  strow  the  pious  dust  in  funeral  rite, 
And  wing  thee  to  the  boundless  realms  of  light. 
Ghost. 

Even  he,  who  did  with  gods  the  banquet  share 
Tithonos,  rais'd  to  breathe  celestial  air, 
And  Minos,  Jove's  own  counsellor  of  state, 
All  these  have  yielded  to  the  power  of  fate. 
Mariner. 

Even  your  own  sage,  whose  monumental  shieUr 
Borne  through  the  terrors  of  the  Trojan  field, 
Prov'd  that  alone  the  mouldering  body  dies, 
And  souls  immortal  from  our  ashes  rise. 
Even  he  a  second  time  resigned  his  breath. 
Sent  hgadlong  to  the  gloomy  realms  of  death  : 
Ghost. 

Not  meanly  skiird,even  by  your  own  applau??. 
in  moral  truth,  and  nature's  secret  laws. 

One  endless  night  for  all  mankind  remains, 
Anti  once  we  all  must  tread  the  shadowy  plair^s. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  57 

Inhorriti  pomp  of  war  the  soldier  dies  ; 

The  sailor  in  the  greedy  ocean  lies  ; 

Thus  age  and  youth  promiscuous  crowd  the  tomb  ' 

No  mortal  head  can  shun  th'  impending  doom. 

When  sets  Orion's  star,  the  winds  that  sweep 
The  raging  waves,  o'erwhelm'd  me  in  the  deep  : 
Nor  thou,  ray  friend,  refuse  with  impious  hand 
A  little  portion  of  this  wandering  sand 
To  these  my  poor  remains  ;  so  may  the  storm 
"Rage  o'er  the  woods,  nor  ocean's  face  deform : 
May  gracious  Jove  with  wealth  thy  toils  repay, 
And  Neptune  guard  thee  through  the  watery  way  ! 

Thy  guiltless  race  this  bold  neglect  shall  mourn . 
And  thou  shalt  feel  the  just  returns  of  scorn. 
My  curses  shall  pursue  the  guilty  deed, 
And  all  in  vain  thy  richest  victims  bleed. 
Whatever  thy  haste,  oh  !  let  my  prayer  prevail^ 
Ttrice  strov  the  sand,  then  hoist  the  flving  sail.. 


5.8  THE  WORKS  OP  HORACE 

ODE  XXIX. 

TO  ICCIUS. 

ICCIUS,  the  blest  Arabia's  gold 
Can  you  with  envious  eye  behold  ? 
Or  will  you  boldly  take  the  field, 
And  teach  Sabaea's  kings  to  yield, 
Or  meditate  the  dreadful  Mede 
In  chains  triuniphantly  to  lead  ? 

Should  you  her  hapless  lover  slay, 
What  captive  maid  shall  own  thy  sway  >? 
What  courtly  youth  with  essenc'd  hair 
^hall  at  thy  board  the  goblet  bear. 
Skilful  with  his  great  father's  art 
To  wing  with  death  the  pointed  dart  ? 

Who  shall  deny  that  streams  ascend. 
And  Tiber's  currents  backward  bend, 
When  you  have  all  our  hopes  betray'd  ; 
You,  that  far  other  promise  made  ; 
When  all  your  volumes,  learned  store  ' 
The  treasures  of  Socratic  lore, 
t>nce  bought  nt  mighty  price,  in  vain, 
A  re  sent  to  purchase  arms  in  Spain  ? 


ODES,  BOOK  I 

ODE  XXX. 
TO  VENUS. 

Q,UEEN  of  beauty,  queen  of  smilef, 
Leave,  oh  !  leave  thy  favourite  isles 
A  temple  rises  to  thy  fame, 
Where  Glycera  invokes  thy  name, 
And  bids  the  fragrant  incense  flame, 

With  thee  bring  thy  love- warm  son. 
The  Graces  bring  with  flowing  zone^ 
The  Nymphs,  and  jocund  Mercury, 
And  sprightly  Youth,  who  without  th€i 
Is  nought  but  savage  Liberty. 


60  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  XXXL 

TO  APOLLO. 

>^"^EN  at  Apollo's  hallow'd  shrine 
The  poet  hails  the  power  divine, 
And  here  his  first  libations  pours, 
"Nyhat  is  the  blessing  he  implores  ? 

He  nor  desires  thd  swelling  grain. 
That  yellows  o'er  Sardinia's  plain  ; 
Nor  the  fair  herds,  that  lowing  feed 
On  warm  Calabria's  flowery  mead  ; 
Nor  ivory,  of  spotless  shine  ; 
Nor  gold,  forth-flaming  from  its  mine  - 
Nor  the  rich  fields  that  Liris  laves, 
And  eats  away  with  silent  waves. 

Let  others  quaff  the  racy  wine 
To  whom  kind  Fortune  gives  the  vine ; 
The  golden  goblet  let  him  drain 
Who  vent'rous  ploughs  th'  Atlantic  malD. 
Blest  with  three  safe  returns  a-year, 
For  he  to  every  god  is  dear. 

To  me  boon  Nature  frankly  yields 
Her  wholesome  sallad  from  the  fields  ; 
Nor  ask  I  more,  than  sense  and  health 
sun  to  enjoy  my  present  wealth. 
From  age  and  all  its  weakness  free, 
O  son  of  Jove,  preserv'd  by  thee, 
Give  me  to  strike  the  tuneful  lyre, 
.\nd  thoji  niy  latest  song  inspire^ 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  O! 


ODE  xxxn 


TO  HIS  LYRE, 

IP  with  thee  beneath  the  shade 
IMany  an  idle  air  I  play'd, 

Now  the  Latian  song,  my  lyre, 
With  some  immortal  strain  inspire. 

Such  as  once  Alcasus  sung. 
Who,  fierce  in  war,  thy  music  strung, 

When  he  heard  the  battle  roar, 
Qi^raoor'd  his  sea-tost  vessel  on  the  shore 

Wine  and  the  Muses  were  his  theme, 
And  Venus,  laughter-loving  dame, 

With  Cupid  ever  by  her  side. 
And  Lycus,  form'd  in  beauty's  pride. 

With  his  hair  of  jetty  dye, 
And  the  black  lustre  of  his  eye. 

Charming  shell,  Apollo'sHove, 
How  grateful  to  the  feasts  of  Jove  • 

Hear  thy  poet's  solemn  prayer, 
Tlrou  soft"ner  of  each  anxioiis  care. 


m  Tlit  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XXXIIL 

7  0  ALBIUS  TIBULLUe 

NO  rnoie  iu  elegiac  etrain 
01  cruel  Glyccra  complain, 
I'hough  she  resign  iicr  faithless  charms 
To  a  new  lover's  younger  arms. 
The  Ui-dhi,  for  lovelj'  forehead  fam'd, 
With  Cyrus'  beauties  ia  inflam'd ; 
While  Pholoe,  of  haughty  charms, 
'i'hc  panting  breast  of  Cyrus  warms ; 
But  wolves  and  goats  shall  sooner  prove 
The  pleasures  of  forbidden  love. 
Than  she  her  virgin  honour  stain, 
And  not  the  filthy  rake  disdain. 

So  Venus  wills,  whose  power  controuls 
The  fond  affections  of  our  soul» ; 
With  sportive  cruelty  she  binds 
Unequal  forms,  unequal  minds. 
Thus,  when  a  better  Venus  strove 
To  wurrn  my  youthful  breast  to  love, 
y»;t  could  a  slave-born  maid  detain 
^Iy  willing  heart  in  pleasing  chain, 
{  hougli  fiercer  she  than  waves  that  roar 
Winding  the  rough  CaUbfian  thore. 


ODES,  DOOK  I.  a*! 


ODE  XXXIV. 

V  FUGITIVE  from  Leaven  and  pia}  ci 
I  inock'd  ot  all  rdigiuuH  Tear, 
Deep  wcionc'd  in  the  nm/.y  lore 
Of  mud  phiIo8ophy  ;  bul  now 
Hoiut  huil;  und  buck  my  voyugo  plouj;!» 
To  that  blcbl  hurbour,  wliioh  I  left  bcfou-. 

Per  lo  !  tbat  uwfnl  bcnvcnly  Siio, 

Who  fiequont  rliNivcM  ihn  cbjuda  with  lljT^ 

Parent  of  tluy,  ininiurtul  Jove, 
fiOtu  through  the  floiitini;  ficklH  (jf  uir, 
The  face  of  licavrn  Hcrono  and  fair, 
His  thundering  8toedH  and  winged  chariot  di  ov( 

When,  at  the  burrtting  of  Iuh  flamoii, 
Tiio  ponderoui  ourth,  und  vugruul  Htrt'ums 

Infernal  Styx,  tho  diri«  iibodu 
Of  hi\t«ful  Tffiuuru*  profoun<J, 
And  AtluH  to  hiH  iitmoHt  bound, 
I'roniblcd  beneath  the  terror»  of  the  god . 

Tlic  hand  of  Jov«  can  cruwh  the  proud 
Down  to  iho  nioanoNt  ol"  the  crowd, 
AndraiHOthu  lowent  in  hi»  ntcud  ; 
But  rapid  Fortune  pull»  liiin  down, 
And  Bnatchet)  hiu  iinpuriul  crown, 
I'o  place,  not  fix  it,  on  unolhor'a  hoad. 


€4    THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  XXXV. 

TO  FORTUNE. 

GODDESS,  whom  Antium,  beauteous    towiT, 
obeys, 
Whose  various  will  with  instant  power  can  raise 
Erail  mortals  from  the  depths  of  low  despair, 
Or  change  proud  triumphs  to  the  funeral  tear  : 

Thee  the  poor  farmer,  who  with  ceaseless  pain 
Labours  the  glebe ;  thee,  mistress  of  the  main, 
The  sailor,  who  with  fearless  spirit  dares 
The  rising  tempest,  courts  with  anxious  prayers  : 

Thee  the  rough  Dacian,  thee  the  vagrant  band 
Of  field-born  Scythians,  Latium's  warlike  land, 
Cities  and  nations,  mother-queens  revere, 
And  purple  tyranny  beholds  with  fear. 

Nor  in  thy  rage  with  foot  destructive  spurn 
This  standing  pillar,  and  its  strength  o'erturu; 
Nor  let  the  nations  rise  in  bold  uproar. 
And  civil  war,  to  break  th'  imperial  power. 

With  solemn  pace  and  firm,  in  awful  state 
Before  thee  stalks  inexorable  Fate, 
And  grasps  empaling  nails,  and  wedges  dread, 
The  book  tormentous,  and  the  melted  lead  : 

Thee  Hope  and  Honour,  now,  alas,  how  rare  f 
With  white  enrob'd,  attend  with  duteous  care. 
When  from  th&  palace  of  the  Great  you  fly 
fn  ar^gry  mood,  and  garb  of  misery. 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  «i 

Not  such  the  crowd  of  light  companions  prove^ 
Nor  the  false  mistress  of  a  wanton  love,  j 

Faithless  who  wait  thejlowest  dregs  to  drain, 
Nor  friendship's  equal  yoke  wtth  strength  sustaiV; 

Propitious  guard  our  Caesar,  who  explores 
His  vent'rous  way  to  farthest  Britain's  shores 
Our  new-rais'd  troops  be  thy  peculiar  care, 
Who  dreadful  to  the  East  our  banners  bear. 

Alas  !  the  shameless  scars !  the  guilty  deeds. 
When  by  a  brother's  hand  a  brother  bleeds  ! 
What  crimes  have  we,  an  iron  age,  not  dar'd? 
In  terror  of  the  gods  what  altar  spar'd  ? 

Oh  1  that  our  swords  with  civil  gore  distain'd. 
And  in  the  sight  of  gods  and  men  profan'd — 
Sharpen  again,  dread  queen,  the  blunted  steel. 
Am]  let  O'j.r  foes  the  pointed  vengeance  feel 


Vol.  I. 


66  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  XXXVI. 

WITH  incense  heap  the  sacred  fire^ 
And  bolder  strike  the  wilhng  lyre. 
Now  let  the  heifer's  votive  blood  ; 
Pour  to  the  gods  its  purple  flood  : 
Those  guardian  gods,  from  farthest  Spain. 
Who  send  our  Numida  again. 

A  thousand  kisses  now  he  gives, 
A  thousand  kisses  he  receives. 
But  Lamia  most  his  friendship  proves,, 
Lamia  with  tenderness  he  loves. 
At  school  their  youthful  love  began, 
Whence  they  together  rose  to  man. 

With  happiest  marks  the  day  shall  sliinf- 
Nor  want  th'  abundant  joy  of  wine : 
Like  Salian  priests  the  dance  we'll  lead;, 
And  many  a  mazy  measure  tread. 
Now  let  the  Thracian  goblet  foam, 
Nor  in  the  breathless  draught  o'ercome 
Shall  Bassus  yield  his  boasted  name 
To  Danialis  of  tipling  fame. 

Here  let  the  rose  and  lily  shed 
Their  short -liv'd  bloom  ;  lot  parsley  spr^aa 
Its  living  verdure  o'er  the  feast, 
And  crown  with  mingled  sweets  the  guest. 
On  Damalis  each  amorous  boy 
Shall  gaze  with  eyes  that  flow  with  joy, 
While  she,  as  curls  the  ivy-plant, 
Slinll  twine  luxurfanl  round  her  new  sallaiK 


ODES,  BOOK  I.  6'/ 

ODE  XXXVII. 

TO  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

iVOW  let  the  bowl  with  wine  be  crowned, 
Now  lighter  dance  the  mazy  round, 
And  let  the  sacred  couch  be  stor'd 
Whh  the  rich  dainties  of  a  priestly  boarth 

Sooner  to  draw  the  mellow'd  wine, 
Prest  from  the  rich  Caecubian  vine, 
Were  impious  mirth,  while  yet  elate 
The  queen  breath'd  ruin  to  the  Roman  gtatc-. 

.     Surrounded  by  a  tainted  train, 
Wretches  enervate  and  obscene, 
She  r^v'd  of  empire — nothing  less — 
V'ast  in  her  hopes,  and  giddy  with  success-. 

But,  hardly  rescued  from  the  flames, 
One  lonely  ship  her  fury  tames  ; 
While  Caesar  with  impelling  oar 
-I'ursu'd  her  flying  from  the  the  Latian  sliore  : 

Her,  with  Egyptian  wine  inspir'd, 
With  the  full  draught  to  madness  fird, 
Augustus  sober'd  into  tears. 
And  turn'd  her  visions  into  real  fears. 

As  darting  sudden  from  above 
The  hawk  attacks  a  tender  dove  ; 
Or  sweeping  huntsman  drives  the  hare 
C&r  witte  iEmonia's  icy  deserts  dVear; 


63  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

So  Caesar  through  the  billows  pressVl 
To  lead  in  chains  the  fatal  pest : 
But  she  a  nobler  fate  explored, , 
Nor  woman-like  beheld  the  deathful  swonl 

Nor  with  hftr  navy  fled  dismay'd, 
In  distant  realms  to  seek  for  aid, 
But  sawunmov'd  her  state  destroyed,. 
Her  palace  desolate,  a  lonely  void  : 

With  fearless  hand  she  dar'd  to  grasp 
The  writhings  of  the  wrathful  asp, 
And  suck  the  poison  through  her  vein?, 
Resolv'd  on  death,  and  fiercer  from  its  pain 

Then  scorning  to  be  led  the  boast 
Of  mighty  Caesar's  naval  host, 
And  arm'd  with  more  than  mortal  spleen. 
>>efrauds  a  triumph,  and  expires  a  queen   • 


ODES,  BOOK  T 


ODE  XXXVIII. 

TO  HIS  SLAVE. 

I  TELL  thee,  boy,  that  I  detest 
The  grandeur  of  a  Persian  feast;, 
Nor  for  me  the  linden's  rind 
Shall  the  flowery  chaplet  bind  : 
Then  search  not  where  the  curious  rose 
Beyond  his  season  loitering  grows. 
But  beneath  the  mantling  vine 
While  I  quaff  the  flowing  wine, 
The  myrtle's  wreath  shall  crown  our  browi 
While  you  shall  wait,  and  I  carouse-. 


ODES. 

BOOK  11. 

ODE  I. 
TO  ASINIUS  POLLIO 

O  POLLIO,  thou  the  great  defence 

Of  sad  impleaded  innocence. 

On  whom,  to  weigh  the  grand  debato^ 

In  deep  consult  the  fathers  wait ; 
V^or  whom  the  triumphs  o'er  Dalmatia  spreac- 
I'nfading  honours  round  thy  laureFd  heat^, 

Of  warm  commotions,  wrathful  jars, 
The  growing  seeds  of  eivil  wars  ; 
Of  double  Fortune's  cruel  games. 
The  specious  means,  the  private  aim?- 

And  fatal  frienships  of  the  guilty  great-. 

Mas  !  how  fatal  to  the  Roman  state  ! 

Of  mighty  legions  late  subdu'd, 

And  arms  with  Latian  blood  imbru'd. 

Yet  unaton'd  (a  labour  vast ! 

Doubtful  the  dye,  and  dire  the  cast  1) 
Vou  treat  adventurous,  and  incautious  treat'l 
On  fire.-j  \^ith  faitlite.=s  embers  oversjireaM  i 


:.:J  the  works  of  HORACE 

Retard  awhile  thy  glowing  vein, 
Nor  swell  the  solemn,  tragic  scene  ; 
And  when  thy  sage,  historic  cares 
Have  form'd  the  train  of  Rome's  affairs. 
With  lofty  rapture  re-inflam'd,  infuse 
Heroic  thoughts,  and  wake  the  buskin'd  Muse 

Hark  !  the  shrill  clarion's  voice  I  hear, 
Its  threatning  murmurs  pierce  mine  ear  ; 
And  in  thy  lines,  with  brazen  breath, 
The  trumpet  sounds  the  charge  of  death  ; 
While  the  strong  splendors  of  the  sword  affrigi 
The  flying  steed,  and  mar  the  rider's  sight ! 

Panting  with  terror,  I  survey 
The  martial  host  in  dread  array. 
The  chiefs,  how  valiant  and  how  just ! 
Defil'd  with  not  inglorious  dust, 
And  all  the  world  in  chains,  but  Cato  see 
Of  spirit  unsubdu'd,  and  dying  to  be  fre«- 

Imperial  Juno,  fraught  with  ire, 
And  all  the  partial  gods  of  Tyre, 
W^ho,  feeble  to  revenge  her  cries, 
Retreated  to  their  native  skies. 
Have  in  the  victor's  bleeding  race  repaid 
.lugurtha's  ruin,  and  appeas'd  his  shade. 

What  plain,  by  mortals  travers'd  o'er. 

Is  not  enrich'd  with  Roman  gore  ? 

Unnumber'd  sepulchres  record 

The  deathful  harvest  of  the  sword. 
And  proud  Hesperia,  rushing  into  thrall. 
While  distant  Parthia  heard  tlie  cumbrous  fi}' 


ODES,  BOOK  II. 

What  gulf,  what  rapid  river  flows 
TJnconscious  of  our  wasteful  woes  ? 
What  rolling  sea's  unfathom'd  tide 
Have  not  the  Daunian  slaughters  dy'd  ? 
What  coast,  encircled  by  the  briny  flood, 
Boasts  not  the  shameful  tribute  of  our  blood  .' 

But  thou,  my  Muse,  to  whom  belong 
The  sportive  jest  and  jocund  song, 
Beyond  thy  province  cease  to  stray. 
Nor  vain  revive  the  plaintive  lay  : 
Seek  humbler  measures,  indolently  laid 
With  me  beneath  some  love^sequester'd  shade 


Vol.  I, 


ri  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

Ot>E  11. 

TO    CRISPIUS  SALLUST1U& 

GOLD  hath  no  lustre  of  its  own, 
It  shhies  by  temperate  use  alone, 
And  when  in  earth  it  hoarded  lies, 
My  Sallust  can  the  mass  despise. 

With  never-failing  wing  shall  Fame- 
To  latest  ages  bear  the  name 
Of  Proculeius,  who  could  prove 
A  father,  in  a  brother's  love. 
By  virtue's  precepts  to  controul 
The  furious  passions  of  the  soul 
Is  over  wider  realms  to  reign, 
Unenvied  Monarch,  than  if  Spain 
You  could  to  distant  Lybia  join, 
And  both  the  Carfhages  were  thine. 

The  Dropsy,  by  indulgence  nurs'd. 
Pursues  us  with  increasing  thirst, 
Till  art  expells  the  cause,  and  drains 
The  watery  langouc  from  our  veins. 
But  Virtue  can  the  crowd  unteach 
Their  false,  mistaken  forms  of  speech  ;- 
Virtue,  to  crowds  a  foe  profest, 
Disdains  to  number  with  the  bl^st 
Phraates,  by  his  slaves  ador'd, 
And  to  tlie  Parthian  crown  restor'd, 
And  gives  the  diadem,  the  throne, 
And  laurel  wreath,  to  him  alone 
Who  can  atreasur'd  mass  of  gold 
With  firm,  undazzled  eve  behold. 


ODES,  BOOK  IL  75 

ODE  III. 
TO  DELLIUS. 

4.\  adverse  hours  an^equal  mind  maintain^ 

Nor  let  your  spirit  rise  too  high, 
Though  Fortune  kindly  change  the  scene 

Remember,  Dellius,  you  were  born  to  die.- 

Whether  your  life  in  sorrows  pass, 

And  sadly  joyless  glide  away  ; 
Whether,  reclining  on  the  grass, 

You  bless  with  choicer  wine  the  festal  day, 

Where  the  pale  poplar  and  the  pine 

Expel  the  sun's  intemperate  beam, 
In  hospitable  shades  their  branches  twine, 

And  winds  with  toil,  though  swift,  the  tremulous 
stream. 
Here  pour  your  wines,  your  odours  shed, 

Bring  forth  the  rose's  short-liv'd  flower, 
While  Fate  yet  spins  thy  mortal  thread, 

While  youth  and  fortune  give  th'  indulgent  hour 

Vour  purchas'd  woods,  your  house  of  state. 
Your  villa,  wash'd  by  Tiber's  wave, 

Vou  must,  my  Dellius,  yield  to  Fate, 
And  to  your  heir  these  high-pil'd  treasures  llav?. 

VVhether  you  boast  a  monarch's  birth, 
While  wealth  unbounded  round  you  flov^s; 

Or  poor,  and  sprung  from  vulgar  earth. 
No  pity  for  his  victim  Pluto  knoWs. 

We  all  mast  tread  the  paths  of  Fate  ; 

And  ever  shakes  the  mortal  urn. 
Whose  lot  embarks  us,  soon  or  late, 

On  Charon's  boat,  ah !  never  fb  retm-n. 


;6  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  IV. 

TO  XANTHIA9  PHOCEUS. 

LET  not  my  Pboceus  think  it  shame 
For  a  fair  slave  to  own  his  flame  ; 
A  slave  could  stern  Achilles  move, 
And  bend  his  haughty  soul  to  love  ; 
\ja:c.  invincible  in  arms, 
SVas  captiv'd  by  his  captive's  charms  : 

Atrides  'midst  his  triumphs  mourn'd. 
And  for  a  ravish'd  virgin  burn'd, 
What  time  the  fierce  barbarian  bands 
Fell  by  Pelides'  conquering  hands, 
\.nd  Troy  (her  Hector  swept  away) 
Became  to  Greece  an  easier  prey. 

Who  knows,  when  Phyllis  is  your  bride. 
i'o  what  fine  folk  you'll  be  allied  ? 
iler  parents  dear,  of  gentle  race,. 
Shall  not  their  son-in-law  disgrace. 
iShe  sprang  from  kings,  or  nothing  les5. 
And  weeps  the  family's  distress. 

Think  not  that  such  a  charming  she 
<  'an  of  the  wretched  vulgar  be, 
A  maid^  so  faithful  and  so  true 
To  love,  to  honour,  and  to  you  ! 
Iler  dear  mamma,  right-virtuous  dame, 
Could  ne'er  have  known  the  blush  of  shame 

While  thus  with  innocence  I  praise, 
f  ,et  me  no  jealous  transports  raise. 
Ileai-t-whole  and  sound  I  laud  her  charm*:, 
tier  face,  her  taper  legs,  her  arms  ; 
For,  trembling  on  to  forty  years. 
Uy  o.ge  forbids  a!l  jealous  fears. 


ODES,  BOOK  II. 


ODE  V. 

SEE,  thy  heifer's  yet  unbroke 
To  the  labours  of  the  yoke, 
Nor  hath  strength  enough  to  prove 
Such  impetuous  weight  of  love. 
Round  the  fields  her  fancy  strays, 
O'er  the  mead  she  sportive  plays  ; 
Now  beneath  the  sultry  beam 
Cools  her  in  the  passing  stream, 
Now  with  frisking  steerlings  young 
Sports  the  sallow  groves  among. 

Do  not  then  commit  a  rape 
On  the  crude,  unraellow'd  grape  : 
Autumn  soon,  of  various  dyes, 
Shall  with  kinder  warmth  arise, 
Bid  the  livid  clusters  glow, 
And  a  riper  purple  show. 

Time  to  her  shall  count  each  day 
Which  from  you  it  takes  away. 
Till  with  bold  and  forward  charms 
She  shall  rush  into  your  arras. 
Pholoe,  the  flying  fair, 
Shall  not  then  with  her  compare  ; 
Nor  the  maid  of  bosom  bright,        * 
Like  the  moon's  unspotted  light, 
O'er  the  waves,  with  silver  rays. 
When  its  floating  lustre  plays  ; 
Nor  the  Cnidian  fair  and  young, 
Wh'j,  the  virgin-choir  among, 


-^S  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE - 

Miglit  deceive,  in  female  guise, 
Strangers,  though  extremely  wise, 
\Vith  the  difference  between 
Sexes  hardly  to  be  seen, 
And  his  hair  of  flowing  grace^ 
And  his  boyish,  girlish  face. 


ODES,  BOOK  IL  Ti> 

ODE  VL 

TO  SEPTIMIUS 

4EPTIMIUS,  who  hast  vow'd  to  go 

With  Horace  even  to  farthest  SpaiO; 
Or  seethe  fierce  Cantabrian  foe. 
Untaught  to  bear  the  Roman  chain, 
r)i:  the  bftrbaric  S>rts,  with  mad  recoil 
Where  Mauritanian  billows  ceaseless  boil ; 

May  Tibur  to  my  latest  hours 

Aftbrd  a  kind  and  calm  retreat ; 
Tibur,  beneath  whose  lofty  towers 
The  Grecians  fix'd  their  blissful  seat : 
Wiere  may  my  labours  end,  my  wanderings  cease^ 
'('here  all  my  toils  of  warfare  rest  in  peace  ! 

But  should  the  partial  Fates  reftise 
That  purer  air  to  let  me  breathe, 
Galesus,  thy  sweet  stream  I'll -choose, 
Where  flocks  of  richest  fleeces  bathe  ; 
Phalaatus  there  his  rural  sceptre  sway'd, 
Uncertain  offspring  of  a  Spartan  maid. 

No  spot  so  joyous  smiles  to  me 

Of  this  wide  globe's  extended  shores  . 
Where  nor  the  labours  of  the  bee 
Yield  toHymettus'  golden  stores,  > 

Nor  the  green  berry  of  Venafran  soil 
v5 wells  with  a  riper  flood  of  fragrant  oil. 


;  0  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

There  Jove  his  kindest  gifts  bestows, 

There  joys  to  crown  the  fertile  plain.- 
With  genial  warmth  the  winter  glows, 
And  spring  with  lengthened  honours  reiv^ii 
Vor  Aulon,  friendly  to  the  clustering  vine. 
'iJnvies  the  vintage  of  Falernian  wine. 

That  happy  place,  that  sweet  retreat. 

The  charming  hills  that  round  it  rise. 
Your  latest  hours  and  mine  await : 

And  when  at  length  your  Horace  dies. 
There  the  deep  sigh  thy  poet-friend  shall  niL 
VivJ.  pious  tears  bedew  his  glowing  uin. 


ODES,  BOOK  II.  Si 

ODE  VII. 
TO  POMPEIUS  VARUS 

VAPwUS,  from  early  youth  belov'd.. 

And  oft  with  me  in  danger  prov'd, 

Our  daring  host  when  Brutus  led, 

And  in  the  cause  of  freedom  bled,  . 

To  Rome  and  all  her  guardian  powers 

What  happy  chance  the  friend  restores^ 

With  whom  I've  cheer'd  the  tedious  day.. 

And  drunk  its  loitering  hours  away, 

Profuse  of  sweets  while  Syria  shed 

Her  liquid  odours  on  my  head  ? 
With  thee  I  saw  Philippi's  plain, 

Its  fatal  rout,  a  fearful  scene  ! 
And  dropp'd,  alas  !  th' inglorious  shield, 
Where  valour's  self  was  forc'd  to  yield. 
Where  soil'd  in  dust  the  vanquish'd  lay 
And  breath'd  th'  indignant  soul  away. 
But  me,  when  dying  with  my  fear, 
Tluough  warring  hosts,  inwrapp'd  in  ai; . 
Swift  did  the  god  of  wit  convey  ; 
While  thee  wild  war's  tempestuous  sea 
In  ebbing  tides  drove  far  from  shore, 
And  to  new  scenes  of  slaughter  bore. 
To  Jove  thy  votive  offerings  paid, 

^  Beneath  my  laurel's  shehering  shade, 
Fatigu'd  whh  war,  now  rest  reclin'd. 
Nor  .spare  the  casks  for  thee  desigu'd, 
Heve  joyous  till  the  polish'd  bowl, 


Sf!  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACt: 

With  wine  oblivious  cheer  thy  soul, 
And  from  the  breathing  phials  pour 
Of  essenc'd  sweets  a  larger  shower. 

But  who  the  wreath  unfading  weaves 
*!>f  parsley,  or  of  myrtle  leaves  ? 
ToTvhom  shall  beauty's  <^ueen  assign 
To  reign  the  monarch  of  our  wine  ? 
For  Thracian-like  I'll  drink  to-day, 
.\rtid  deeply  Bacchus  it  away. 
•Our  transports  for  a  friend  restor'd 
."?hTiuld  cv'n  to  madness  shake  the  boarc'i. 


ODES,  BOOK  n. 

ODE  VIII. 

TO  BARINE. 

IF  e'er  th'  insulted  powers  had  shed 
.Their  vengeance  on  thy  perjur'd  head  : 
If  they  had  mark'd  thy  faithless  truth 
With  one  foul  nail,  or  blacken'd  tooth, 
Again  thy  falsehood  might  deceive, 
And  I  the  faithless  vow  believe. 

But  when,  perfidious,  you  engage 
To  meet  high  heaven's  vindictive  rage. 
You  rise,  with  heigtenM  lustre  fair, 
Of  all  our  youth  the  public  care. 

It  thrives  with  thee  to  be  forsworn 
By  thy  dead  mother's  hallow'd  urn  : 
By  heaven,  and  all  the  stars  that  roll 
tn  silent  circuit  rouird  the  pole  : 
By  heaven,  and  every  nightly  sign, 
By  every  deathless  power  divine.- 
Yes  ;  Venus  laughs,  the  nymphs  with  snii 
The  simple  nymphs  !  behold  thy  wiles, 
And  with  the  blood  of  some  poor  swain 
By  thy  perfidious  beauty  slain, 
Fierce  Cupid  whets  his  burning  darts. 
For  thee  to  wound  new  lovers'  hearts. 
Thy  train  of  slaves  grows  every  day. 
Infants  are  rising  to  thy  sway ; 
And  they  who  swore  to  break  thy  cKain 
yet  haunt  those  impious  doors  agaim 


34  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE, 

Thee  for  their  boys  the  mothers  fear, 
The  frugal  father  for  his  heir  ; 
And  weeping  stands  the  virgin  bride, 
In  Hymen's  fetters  lately  tied. 
Lest  you  detain,  with  brighter  charms, 
fler  perjur'd  husband  from  her  arms. 


ODES,  BOOK  II  «5 

ODE  IX. 
TO  VALGIUS. 

I       NOR  everlasting  rain  deforms 

I  The  squalid  fields  ;  nor  endless  stormf 

j   Inconstant,  vex  the  Caspian  main  ; 

I  Nor  on  Armenia's  frozen  plain 

I  The  loitering  snovir  unmelting  lies  ; 

I  T^or,  loud,  vrhen  northern  winds  arise. 

I  The  labouring  forests  bend  the  head. 

Nor  yet  their  leafy  honours  shed  : 

Yet  still  in  elegiac  strains 

My  Valgius  for  his  son  complaint 

When  Vesper  lifts  his  evening  ray. 

Or  flies  the  rapid  beam  of  Day. 
iVot  for  his  son  the  Grecian  sage. 

Renown* d  for  thrice  the  mortal  age  ; 

Not  for  their  youthful  brother  dead, 
!  Such  sorrows  Priam's  daughters  shed. 

At  length  these  weak  complaints  give  (j'ti . 

Indulge  th'  unmanly  grief  no  more  : 
!   But  let  us  bolder  sweep  the  string, 
I  And  Caesars  new-rais'd  trophies  sing 
i  The  Tigris,  and  its  freezing  flood. 

Euphrates,  with  its  realms,  subdu'd  ; 
'  Whose  waves  are  taught  with  humbler  prio» 
;  Smoother  to  roll  their  lessening  tide ; 

The  Scjthians,  who  reluctant  yield. 

Nor  pour  their  squadrons  o'er  the  field. 


aG  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACK 


ODE  X. 
TO  LICINIUS  MURENA, 

LICINIUS,  would  you  live  with  ease, 
Tempt  not  too  far  the  faithless  seas, 
And  when  you  hear  the  tempest  roar;. 
Press  not  too  near  th'  unequal  shore. 
The  man,  within  the  golden  mean 
Who  can  his  boldest  wish  contain, 
Securely  views  the  ruin'd  cell, 
Where  sordid  want  and  sorrow  dwell, 
And,  in  himself  serenely  great. 
Declines  an  envied  room  of  state. 

When  high  in  air  the  pine  ascends^ 
To  every  ruder  blast  it  bends. 
The  palace  falls  with  heavier  weight, 
When  tumbling  from  its  airy  height ; 
And  when  from  heaven  the  lightning  fiiefi^ 
It  blasts  the  hills  that  proudest  rise. 

Whoe'er  enjoys  the  untroubled  breast, 
With  virtue's  tranquil  wisdom  blest, 
With  hope  the  gloomy  hour  can  cheer, 
And  temper  happiness  with  fear. 

If  Jove  the  winter's  horrors  bring, 
Yet  Jove  restores  the  genial  spring. 
Then  let  us  not  of  fate  complain, 
For  soon  shall  change  the  gloomy  scene. 
Apollo  sometimes  can  inspire 
ThQ  Silent  MuSe,  upd  wake  the  lyre  : 


ODES;  BOOK  n. 

The  clealbful  bow  not  always  pli^s, 
I'll'  unerring  dart  not  always  flies. 
When  Fortune,  various  goddess,  lowers^ 
Collect  your  strength,  exert  your  powers ; 
Uut,  when  she  breathes  a  kinder  gale, 
R^  wi^e.  an5  furl  your  swelling  saij. 


THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  XI. 
TO  QUINTIUS  HIRPINLS 

BE  not  anxious,  friend,  to  know 
What  our  fierce  Cantabrian  foe, 
What  intends  the  Scythian's  pride,. 
Far  from  us  whom  seas  divide. 
Tremble  not  with  vain  desires, 
Few  the  things  which  life  requires. 
Youth  with  rapid  swiftness  flies, 
Beauty's  lustre  quickly  dies, 
Withered  Age  drives  far  away 
Gentle  sleep  and  amorous  play. 

When  in  vernal  bloom  they  glow. 
Flowers  their  gayest  honours  show. 
Nor  the  moon  with  equal  grace 
Always  lifts  her  ruddy  face. 
Thus  while  nature's  works  decay, 
Busy  mortal,  prithee  say, 
Why  do  you  fatigue  the  mind, 
Not  for  endless  schemes  designed  t 

Thus  beneath  this  lofty  shade, 
Thus  in  careless  freedom  laid. 
While  Assyrian  essence  sheds 
Liquid  fragrance  on  our  heads, 
While  we  lie  with  roses  crown'd; 
Let  the  cheerful  bowj  go  round  : 
Bacchus  can  our  cares  controul.. 
<""ares  that  prey  upon  the  soul. 


[ODES,  BOOK  II. 

Wiio  sball  from  the  passing  stream 
Quench  our  wine's  Falernian  flame  ? 
Who  the  vagrant  wanton  bring, 
Mistress  of  the  lyric  string, 
With  her  flowing  tresses  tied, 
f?«JOffeh-.  Ji&e  a  Snartan  bride  ? 


»  wL'.   if 


DC  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  xn. 

TO  MAECENAS. 
INUMANTIA'S  wars,  for  years  maiataiivJ; 

Or  Hannibal's  vindictive  ire, 
Or  seas  with  Punic  gore  distain'd, 

Suit  not  the  softness  of  my  feeble  lyre  . 

l^or  savage  Centaurs  mad  with  wine, 
Nor  Earth's  gigantic  rebel  brood, 

Who  shook  old  Saturn's  scats  divine,- 
Till  by  the  arm  of  Hercules  subdu'd 

i'^ou  in  historic  prose  shall  tell 
The  mighty  power  of  Caesar's  war  ; 

How  kings  beneath  his  battle  fell, 

Or  dragg'd  indignant  his  triumphal  car. 

Licymnia's  dulcet  voice,  her  eye 
Bright-darting  its  resplendent  ray, 

ifer  breast,  where  love  and  friendship  lie, 
The  muse  commands  me  sing  in  softer  lay 

In  raillery  the  sportive  jest. 
Graceful  her  mien  in  dancing  charms. 
When  playful  at  Diana's  feast 
To  the  bright  virgin  choir  she  v/inds  her  ain; 

Sa}',  shall  the  wealth  by  kings  possest. 

Or  the  rich  diadems  they  v/ear, 
*  )r  all  the  tresures  of  the  East, 

Purchase  one  lock  of  my  Licymnia's  hair  '' 

W^hile  now  her  bending  neck  she  plica 
Backward  to  meet  the  burning  kiss, 

riien  with  an  easy  cruelty  denies. 
Yet  wishes  you  would  suatch.  not  ask  tl:o  iji- 


ODES.  BOOK  II  91 


ODE  XIII. 


WHOEVER,  rals'd  and  planted  thee,. 

Unlucky  and  pernicious  tree, 

Tn  hour  accurs'd  with  impious  hand 

(Thou  bane  and  scandal  of  my  land) 

Well  may  I  think  the  parric  1e 

In  blood  his  guilty  soul  haf'  -  .^ed, 

Or  plung'd  his  dagger  in  tiie  breast^, 

At  midnight,  of  his  sleeping  guest, 

Or  tempered  every  baleful  juice 

Which  poisonous  Colchian  glebes  produce 

Or,  if  a  blacker  crime  be  known, 

That  crime  the  wretch  had  made  his  own, 

Who  on  my  harmless  grounds  and  me 

Bestow'd  thee,  luckless,  falling  tree. 

While  dangers  hourly  round  U3  wait, 
Na  caution  can  prevent  our  fate. 
All  other  deaths  the  sailor  dares, 
Who  yet  the  raging  ocean  fears  ; 
The  Parthian  views  with  deep  dismay 
The  Roman  chains,  and  firm  array  ; 
The  Roman  dreads  the  Parthian's  speed, 
His  flying  war,  and  backward  reed  ; 
While  Death,  unheeded,  sweeps  away 
The  world,  his  everlasjing  prey. 

How  near  was  I  those  dreary  plains, 
Where  Pluto's  auburn  consort  reigns  ; 
Wliere  awful  sits  the  judge  of  hell ; 
WhsjFe  pious  spirits  blissful  dwell  ; 
NVhere  Sappho's  sweet  complaints  roproYe 
The  rivals  of  her  fame  and  love. 


32  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACK 

Alcaeus  bolder  sweeps  the  strings, 
And  seas,  and  war,  and  exile  sings  ? 

Thus  while  they  strike  the  various  lyre; 
TJie  ghosts  the  sacred  sounds  admire ; 
But  when  Alcaeus  tunes  the  strain 
To  deeds  of  war,  and  tyrants  slaiir, 
In  thicker  crowds  the  shadowy  throng 
Drink  deeper  down  the  martial  song. 
What  wonder  ?  when  with  bending  ears 
The  dog  of  hell  astonish'd  hears, 
\nd,  in  the  Furies'  hair  entwin'd, 
Vhe  snakes  with  cheerful  horror  wind  ; 
While,  charm'd  by  the  melodious  strains. 
The  tortur'd  ghosts  forget  their  pains, 
Orion  quits  his  bold  delight, 
To  chase  the  lion's  rage,  or  lynx's  fl^ht. 


ODES;  BOOK  II. 

ODE  XIV. 

TO  POSTUaiUS. 

!    How  swiftly  glide  our  flying  years  "; 
I     Alas  !  nor  piety  nor  tears 

Can  stop  the  fleeting  day  ; 
Deep-furrowM  wrinkles,  posting  age,. 
And  death's  unconquerable  rage, 
Are  strangers  to  delay. 

Though  every  day  a  bull  should  blejqjS 
To  Pluto,  bootless  were  the  deed, 

The  monarch  tearless  reigns, 
Where  vulture-tortur'd  Tityos  lies, 
And  triple  Geryons  monstrous  size 

The  gloomy  wave  detains. 

Whoever  tastes  of  earthly  food 
Is  doom'd  to  pass  the  joyless  flood, 

And  hear  the  Stygian  roar  ; 
The  sceptred  king,  who  rules  the  caT.tl]'. 
The  labouring  hind,  of  humbler  birth. 

Must  reach  the  distant  shore. 

TJie  broken  surge  of  Adria's  main, 
Hoarse-sounding,  we  avoid  in  vain, 

And  Mars  in  blood-stainM  arms  ; 
Th<d  st)utliern  blast  in  vain  we  fear^ 
And  autumn's  life-annoying  air 

With  idl.e  fears  alarms  : 


114  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

For  all  must  see  Cocytus  flow, 
'WTiose  gloomy  water  sadly  slow. 

Strays  through  the  dreary  soil. 
The  guilty  maids,  an  ill-fam'd  train  I 
And,  Sisyphus,  thy  labours  vain, 
Condemned  to  endless  toil. 

i''our  pleasing  consort  must  be  left. 
And  you,  of  villas,  lands,  bereft, 

Must  to  the  shades  descend ; 
The  cypress  only,  hated  tree ! 
Of  all  thy  much-lov'd  groves,  shall  thee; 

Its  short-liv'dlord,  attend. 

Tiien  shall  your  worthier  heir  discharge 
And  set  th'  imprisoned  casks  at  large. 

And  dye  the  floor  with  wine, 
So  rich  and  precious,  not  the  feasts 
OT  holy  pontiffs  cheer  their  guests 

With  liquor  more  divine. 


ODES,  BOOK  H. 


ODE  XV. 


IN  royal  pride  our  buildings  rise. 
The  useless  plough  neglected  lies ; 
Ponds  broad  as  lakes  our  fields  o'erspread 
Th'  unmarried  plane  high  waves  the  head 
Above  the  elm  ;  while  all  around, 
Wafting  their  fragrance  o'er  the  grounr' 
Where  once  the  olive  pour'd  its  shade. 
And  its  rich  master's  cares  repaid. 
The  violet  and  myrtle  greets 
The  senses  with  a  waste  of  sweets 
While  vainly  would  Apollo's  ray 
Through  our  thick  laurels  pour  the  da} 

Not  such  were  Cato's  sage  decree-'. 
Nor  Romulus  by  arts  lik«  these 
In  wisdom  form'd  th' imperial  svvii}  . 
And  bid  th'  unwilling  world  obey  ; 
Though  small  each  personal  estste.. 
The  public  revenues  were  great ; 
Arcades  were  then  by  law  confin'd; 
Ncr  openM  to  the  northern  wind  : 
Gir  turf,  or  brick,  whSre  Fortune  pleas'i, 
The  private  dwelling  humbly  rais'd. 
While  awful  to  the  powers  divine 
flose  high  to  heaven  the  sacred  shrine. 
ind  all  the  public  structures  shone 
^ni  irh'd  with  ornamental  stone. 


O^  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE*. 

ODE  XVI. 
TO  POMPEIUS  GROSPHUS? 

CAUGHT  in  the  wild  iEgsean  seas,. 
The  Sailor  bends  to  heaven  for  ease, 
While  clouds  the  moon's  fair  lustre  Iiide^ 
And  not  a  star  his  course  to  guide, 
furious  in  war  the  Thracian  prays. 
The  quiver'd  Mede,  for  ease,  for  easC; 
4  blessing  never  to  be  sold 
Por  gems,  for  purple,  or  for  gold; 
;\orcan  the  consul's  power  contfoltl 
The  sicklj'  tumults  of  the  soul, 
Or  bid  the  cares  to  stand  aloof 
That  hover  round  the  vaulted  roof  ? 

Happy  the  man  whose  frugal  boam 
His  father's  plenty  can  afford  ; 
His  gentle  sleep  nor  anxious  fear 
Shall  drive  away,  nor  sordid  care. 

Why  do  we  aim  with  eager  strife 
At  things  beyond  the  mark  of  life  ? 
To  climates  warm'd  by  other  suns 
In  vain  the  wretched  exile  runs  ; 
Flies  from  his  country's  native  skie,*, 
But  never  from  himself  he  flies ; 
<J'orroding  cares  incessant  charge 
His  flight,  and  climb  his  armed  ba^rge, 
Or  though  he  mount  the  rapid  steed 
*^are  follows  with  unerring  speedy. 


I 


ODES,  BOOK  IT 

.  fleeter  than  the  timorous  hind 
■AC  fleeter  than  the  driving  wind. 
The  spirit  that,  serenely  gay, 
Careless  enjoys  the  present  day, 
Can  with  an  easy,  cheerful  smile 
The  bitterness  of  life  beguile ; 
Nor  fears  the  approaching  hour  of  r'av  • 
Nor  hopes  for  human  bliss  complete 

Achilles  perish'd  in  his  prime, 
Tithon  was  worn  away  by  time, 
And  Fate,  with  lavish  hand,  to  me 
May  grant  what  it  denies  to  thee. 
\  hundred  bleating  flocks  are  thine_i 
A  round  thee  graze  thy  lowing  kine ; 
iSeighing  thy  mares  invite  the  reins. 
Thy  robes  the  twice-dy'd  purple  stai;:> 
On  me  not  unindulgent  Fate 
Bestow'd  a  rural,  calm  ire  treat, 
Where  I  may  tune  the  Roman  lyre, 
4nd  warm  the  song  with  Grecian  fire . 
Then  scorn,  in  conscious  virtue  proud, 
e  worthless  malice  of  the  crowd. 


Vol,  T. 


t.ij  THE  WORKS  OF  HORAGF. 

ODE  XVII. 
TO  MAECENAS. 

WHY  will  Maecenas  thus  complain. 
Why  kill  me  with  the  tender  strain  ? 
Nor  can  the  gods  nor  I  consent 
That  yoU;  my  life's  great  ornament, 
Should  sink  untimely  to  the  tomb, 
While  I  survive  the  fatal  doom. 

Should  you,  alas  !  be  snateh'd  away,- 
Wherefore,  ah  !  wherefore  should  I  stay 
My  value  lost,  no  longer  whole, 
And  but  possessing  half  my  soul  ? 
One  day,  believe  the  sacred  oath. 
Shall  lead  the  funeral  pomp  of  both  , 
With  thee  to  Pluto's  dark  abode, 
With  thee  Fll  tread  the  dreary  road. 
Nor  fell  Chimrera's  breath  of  fire. 
Nor  hundred-handed  Gyas  dire, 
Shall  ever  tear  my  friend  from  me ; 
So  Justice  and  the  Fates  decree. 

Whether  fair  Libra's  kinder  sign, 
Or  Scorpius  with  an  eye  malign 
Beheld  my  birth  (whose  gloomy  powci 
Rules  dreadful  o'er  the  natal  hour  ;) 
Or  Capricorn,  with  angry  rays 
V/ho  shines  the  tyrant  of  the  seas,. 
With  equal  beams  our  stars  unite, 
And  strangely  shed  their  mingled  liglil. 
Thee  Jove's  bright  influence  snatcli'd  av.  ?;v 
From  baleful  Saturn's  impious  ray. 


II 


ODES,  BOOK  II,  ^ 


And  stopp'd  the  rapid  wings  of  Fa(e. 
When  the  full  theatre^  elate, 
With  joyful  transports  hail'd  thy  name 
And  thrice  upraia'd  the  loud  acclaim. 

A  tree,  when  falling  on  my  head. 
Had  surely  crushed  me  to  the  dead. 
But  Pan,  the  poet's  guardian,  broke 
With  saving  hand,  the  destin'd  strolcc. 
For  thee,  let  the  rich  victim's  blood 
Pour  forth  to  Jove  its  purple  flood ; 
For  thee,  the  votive  temple  rise  ; 
Por  me,  a  humbje  lambkin  dies . 


100  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  xvni 

NO  walls,  with  ivory  inlaid, 
Adorn  my  hopse  ;  no  colonnade 
Proudly  supports  my  citron  beams. 
Nor  rich  with  gold  my  ceiling  flames  , 
Nor  have  I,  like  an  heir  unknown, 
Seiz'd  upon  Attains  his  throne  ; 
Nor  dames,  to  happier  fortunes  bred. 
Draw  dowK  for  me  the  purple  thread  ; 
Vet  with  a  firm  and  honest  heart, 
Unknov/ing  or  of  fraud  or  art, 
A  liberal  vein  of  genius  blest, 
I'm  by  the  rich  and  great  carest. 
My  patron's  gift,  my  Sabine  field 
Shall  all  its  rural  plenty  yield, 
And,  happy  in  that  rural  store, 
Of  heaven  and  him  I  ask  no  more. 
Day  presses  on  the  heels  of  day, 
And  moons  increase  to  their  decay  '. 
But  you,  with  thoughtless  pride  elat^. 
Unconscious  of  impending  fate, 
Command  the  pillar'd  dome  to  rise. 
When  lo  !  thy  tomb  forgotten  lies, 
And,  though  the  waves  indignant  roar. 
Forward  you  urge  the  Eaian  shore, 
While  earth's  too  narrow  bounds  in  vaii 
Your  guilty  pi-ogress  would  restrain,- 
The  sticreu  landmark  strives  in  vain 
Vour  impious  avarice  to  restrain  ; 


ODES,  BOOK  II.  101 


You  break  into  your  neighbour's  gcounds, 
And  overleap  your  client's  bounds. 
Driven  out  by  thee,  to  new  abodes 
They  carry  their  paternal  g^cds  ; 
The  wife  her  husband  s  sorrow  shares, 
And  on  her  breast  her  squalid  infants  bears. 

Yet,  destin'd  by  unerring-  Fate, 
Shall  death  this  wealthy  lord  await ; 
Then  whither  tend  thy  wide  deniesnes  1 
For  Earth  impartial  entertains 
Her  various  sons,  and  in  ber  breast 
Princes  and  beggars  equal  rest. 

Nor  gold  could  bribe,  nor  art  deceive, 
The  gloomy  life-guard  of  the  grave 
Backward  to  tread  the  shadowy  way, 
And  waft  Prometheus  into  day. 
Yet  he  who  Tantalus  detains, 
With  all  his  haughty  race,  in  chains, 
Invok'd  or  not,  the  wretch  receives, 
And  from  the  toils  of  life  relieves. 


m  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

O.DE  XIX. 

TO  BACCHUS. 

f  SAW  (let  future  times  believe) 
The  god  of  wine  his  lectures  give  ; 

'Midst  rocks  far  distant  was  the  scene 
With  ears  erect  the  satyrs  stood, 
And  every  goddess  of  the  wood 

Listened  th'  instructive,  solenan  strai.tb 

The  recent  terror  heaves  my  breast, 
Yet,  with  th'  inspiring  power  possest, 

Tumultuous  joys  my  soul  have  warm'd  : 
Dreadful,  who  shak'st  the  ivy  speav, 
'IHiy  votary  thus  prostrate  hear, 

And  be  thy  rage,  thy  rage  disarm'd. 

Give  mete  sing,  by  thee  inspired, 
Thy  priestesses  to  madness  fir'd ; 

Fountains  of  wine  shall  pour  along, 
Vnd,  melting  from  the  hollow  tree, 
The  golden  treasures  of  the  bee, 

And  streams  of  milk  shall  fill  the  sl)ng 

Fair  Ariadne's  crowft  shall  rise. 
And  add  new  glories  to  the  skies  : 

While  I  to  listening  nations  tell 
flow  impious  Pentheus'  palace  burn'd. 
With  hideous  ruin  overturn'd, 

A  nd  how  the  mad  Lycurgus  fell. 


ODES,  BOOK  II.  iOru 

InJus  and  Ganges  own  thy  sway, 
Barbaric  seas  thy  power  obey. 

And  o'er  the  pathless  mountain's  height 
(Her  head  with  horrid  snakes  enroll'd, 
Which  harmless  writhe  their  angry  fold) 

Thy  raptur'd  priestess  speeds  her  flight. 

Wlien  rising  fierce  in  impious  arms, 
The  giant-race  with  dire  alarms 

Assail'dthe  sacred  realms  of  light, 
With  lion-wrath,  and  dreadful  paw, 
^Mth  blood-besraear"d  and  foaming  jaw. 

You  put  their  horrid  chief  to  flight. 

For  dancing  form'd,  for  love  and  wit, 
Yau  seem'd  for  war's  rude  toils  unfit, 

And  polish'd  to  each  softer  grace  : 
.But  dreadful  when  in  arms  you  shone. 
You  made  the  fatal  art  your  own, 

In  war  excelling  as  in  peace. 

With  golden  horn  supremely  bright, 
Vou  darted  round  the  bending  light 

Far-beaming  through  the  gloom  of  heli . 
When  Cerberus,  with  fear  araaz'd. 
Forgot  his  rage,  and  fawning  gaz'd. 

And  at  thy  feet  adoring  fell. 


Jfji         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 
ODE  XX. 

TO  MiECENA-S. 

WITH  strong,  unwonted  wing  I  risC; 
A  two-form'd  poet,  through  the  skies. 
Far  above  envy  will  I  soar, 
And  tread  this  worthless  earth  no  mOre. 
For  know,  ye  rivals  of  my  fame, 
TlTough  lowly  born,  a  vulgar  name, 
1  will  not  condescend  to  die, 
Nor  in  the  siygiaii  waters  lie. 

A  rougher  akin  now  clothes  my  thighs 
Into  a  swan's  fair  form  I  rise, 
And  feel  the  feather'd  plumage  shed 
Its  down,  and  o'er  my  shoulders  spread 
Swift  as  with  Dsedalean  wing, 
Harmonious  bird^  I'll  soaring  sing, 
And,  in  my  flight,  the  foamy  shores 
Where  Bosphorus  tremendous  roars. 
The  regions  hound  by  northern  'cold^ 
And  Lybia's  burning  sands,  behold. 
Then  to  the  learned  sons  of  Spain, 
To  him  who  ploughs  the  Scythian  main 
To  him  who,  with  dissembled  fears, 
Conscious,  the  Roman  arm.s  reveres, 
To  him  who  drinks  the  rapid  Rhone, 
iSliall  Horace,  deathless  bard  !  be  known 

My  friends,  the  funeral  sorrow  spare. 
The  plaintive  song,  and  tender  tear  ; 
IVor  let  the  voice  of  grief  profane 
With  loud  laments  the  solemn  scene 
Nor  o'er  your  poet's  empty  urn 
With  useless,  idle  sorrows  mourn 


ODES. 

BOOK  III. 


ODE  I. 

MONAECHS  on  earth  their  power  extend-, 
Monarchs  to  Jove  submissive  bend. 

And  own  the  sovereign  god, 
With  glorious  triumph  who  subdu'd 
The  Titan  race,  gigantic  brood! 

And  shakes  whole  nature  with  his  nofl> 

When  rival  candidates  contend,. 
And  to  the  field  of  Mars  descend 

To  urge  th'  ambitious  claim, 
Some  of  illustrious  birth  are  proud. 
Some  of  their  clients  vassal  crowd. 

And  some  of  virtue's  fame. 

Others  the  rural  labour  love, 

And  joy  to  plant  the  spreading  grove,. 

The  furrow'd  glebe  to  turn  ; 
Yet  with  impartial  hand  shall  Fato 
Both  of  the  lowly  and  the  great 

Shake  the  capacious  urn. 


m         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACR. 

Behold  the  wretch,  with  conscious  dread, 
Tn  pointed  vengeance  o'er  his  head 

Who  views  th'  impending  sword ; 
Nor  dainties  force  his  pall'd  desire, 
Nor  chant  of  birds,  nor  vocal  lyre, 

To  him  can  sleep  afford  ; 

Heart-soothing  sleep,  which  not  disdains 
The  rural  cot,  and  humble  swains, 

And  shady  river  fair  : 
Or  Tempe's  ever-blooming  spring, 
AVhere  zephyrs  wave  the  balmy  wing, 

And  fan  the  buxom  air. 

Who  nature's  frugal  dictates  hears. 
He  nor  the  raging  ocean  fears, 

Nor  stars  of  power  malign, 
Whether  in  gloomy  storms  they  rise, 
Or  swift  descending  through  the  skies- 

With  angry  lustre  sliine  ; 

Whether  his  vines  be  smit  with  hail, 
Whether  his  promised  harvests  fail. 

Perfidious  to  his  toil ; 
Whether  his  drooping  trees  complain 
Of  angry  winter's  chilling  rain, 

Or  stars  that  burn  the  soil. 

Not  Such  the  iiaughty  lord,  who  lays 
His  deep  foundations  in  the  seas, 

And  scorns  earth's  narrow  bound  ; 
The  fisi),  affrighted,  feel  their  waves 
Contracted  by  his  numerous  slaves, 

Even  in  the  vast  profound. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  lO: 

High  though  his  structures  rise  in  air,     - 
Pale  menaces,  and  black  despair, 

This  haughty  lord  shall  find 
Oertake  his  armed  galley's  speed, 
\nd  when  he  mounts  the  flying  steed. 

Sits  gloomy  Care  behind. 

li  purple,  which  the  morn  outshines ; 
Or  marble  from  the  Phrygian  mines, 

Though  labour'd  high  with  art, 
Tf  essence,  breathing  sweets  divine, 
Or  flowing  bowls  of  generous  wine, 

III  sooth  an":anxious  heart. 

On  columns,  rais'd  in  modern  style, 
Why  should  I  plan  the  lofty  pile 

To  rise  with  envied  state  ; 
Why,  for  a  vain,  superfluous  store, 
Which  would  encumber  me  the  moit, 

Resign  my  Sabine  seat  ? 


les  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  n. 

TO  HIS  FRIENDS. 

OUR  hardy  youth  should  learn  to  hear 

Sharp  want,  to  rein  the  warlike  steed; 
To  hurl  the  well-directed  spear 
With  pointed  force,  and  bid  the  Parthian  bleed. 

Thus  form'd  in  war's  tumultuous  trade 

Through  summer's  heat,  and  winter's  cold. 

Some  tyrant's  queen,  or  blooming  maid, 
Shall  from  her  walls  the  martial  youth  beliold : 

••  Let  not,  alas  !  my  royal  spouse, 

Untaught  the  deathful  sword  to  wield, 

That  lion  in  his  anger  rouse, 
Whom  furious  rage  drives  through  th'ensanguin'd 
field." 

What  joys,  what  glories  round  him  wai, 

Who  bravely  for  his  country  dies ! 
While  with  dishonest  wounds  shall  Fate 

Relentless  stab  the  coward  as  he  flies. 

With  stainless  lustre  Virtue  shines, 
A  base  repulse  nor  knows,  nor  fears  ; 

Nor  claims  her  honours,  nor  declines. 

As  the  light  air  of  crowds  uncertain  veers  \ 

To  him  who  not  deserves  to  die 

She  shows  the  paths  which  heroes  trod, 

Then  bids  him  boldly  tempt  the  sky. 
Spurn  off  hrs  mortal  clay,  and  rise  a  godt 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  109 

To  silence  due  rewards  we  give ; 

And  they  who  mysteries  reveal 
Beneath  my  roof  shall  never  live, 

Shall  never  hoist  with  me  the  doubtful  sail-. 

When  Jove  in  anger  strikes  the  blow, 
Oft  with  the  bad  the  righteous  bleed  : 

Vet  with  sure  steps,  though  lame  and  slow, 
Vengeant^  o'e.rtakfis  the  trerefbling  vilJain'^  speed . 


^ 


I  JO         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  III. 

THE  man,  in  conscious  virtue  bold, 
Who  dares  his  secret  purpose  hold,. 
Unshaken  hears  the  crowd's  tumultuous  ciieii-. 
And  the  impetuous  tyrant's  angry  brow  defies. 

Let  the  wild  winds,  that  rule  the  seas 
Tempestuous,  all  their  horrors  raise  ; 
liCt  Jove's  dread  arm  with  thunders  rend  the 
spheres, 
.Heneath  the  crush  of  vi'orlds  undaunted  he  appears. 

Thus  to  the  flamy  towers  above, 
The  vagrant  hero,  son  of  Jove, 
Upsoar'd  with  strength  his  own,  where  Caesar  lies, 
.4nd  quaffs,  with  glowing  lips,  the  bowl's  immortjfi 

joys. 

Lyaeus  thus  his  tigers  broke, 
Fierce  and  indocile  to  the  yoke  ; 
Thus  from  the  gloomy  regions  of  the  dead, 
On  his  paternal  steeds,  Rome's  mighty  founder  fled , 

When  heaven's  great  queen  with  words  benign 

Address'd  th'  assembled  powers  divine 

Troy,  hated  Troy,  an  umpire  lewd,  unjust, 
And  a  proud  foreign  dame,  have  sunk  thee  to  the 
dust. 

To  me,  and  wisdom's  queen  decreed. 
With  all  thy  guilty  race  to  bleed,  «■ 

What  time  thy  haughty  monarch's  perjur'd  sir6    jl 
Mbck'd  the  defrauded  gods,  and  robb'd  them  of  thei: 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  ill 

The  gaudy  guest,  of  impious  fame, 
No  more  enjoys  th'  adulterous  dame  ; 
Hector  no  more  his  faithless  brothers  leads 
To  break  the  Grecian  force  ;  no  more  the  viciov 
bleeds. 

Since  the  long  war  now  sinks  to  peace. 
And  all  our  heavenly  factions  cease  ; 
Jnstant  to  Mars  my  vengeance  I  resign, 
And  here  receive  his  son,  though  born  of  Trojan 
line. 

Here,  with  encircling  glories  bright, 
Free  let  him  tread  the  paths  of  light, 

■  And,  rank'd  among  the  tranquil  powers  divine. 

Drink  deep  the  nectar'd  bowl,  and  quaff  celestial 
wine. 

From  Rome  to  Troy's  detested  shores, 
While  loud  a  length  of  ocean  roars, 
Uuenvied  let  th'  illustrious  exiles  reign, 
rt'here  Fate  directs  their  course,  and  spreails  tire  it- 
wide  domain. 

On  Priam's  and  th'  adulterer's  urn 
While  herds  the  dust  insulting  spurn, 
Let  the  proud  Capitol  in  glory  stand, 
And  Rome,,  to  triumph'd  Medes,  give  forth   lif 
stern  command  : 

Let  the  victorious  voice  of  Fame 
Wide  spread  the  terrors  of  her  name, 
Where  seas  the  continents  of  earth  divide, 
id  Mlus  bathes  the  plain  with  h'is  prolific  (iflt 


m         THE  WORKS  OP  HORACE, 

Let  her  the  golden  mine  despise ; 
For  deep  in  earth  it  better  lies, 
Than  when  by  hands  profane,  from  nature's  store.; 
To  human  use  compeird,  flames  forth  the  sacred 


Where  nature's  utmost  limits  end, 
Let  her  triumphant  arms  extend; 
Or  where  the  sun  pours  down  his  madding  beams. , 
Or  where  the  clouds  are  dark,  and  rain  perpetual 
streams. 

Thus  let  the  warlike  Romans  reign 
(So  Juno  and  the  Fates  ordain,) 
But  on  these  terms  alone,  no  more  to  dare, 
Through  piety  or  pride,  their  parent  Troy  repair ; 

For  Troy  rebuilt,  ill-omen'd  state  I 
Shall  feel  the  same  avenging  fate ; 
Again  my  Grecians  shall  victorious  prove, 
By  me  led  on  to  war,  the  sister-wife  of  Jove. 

Thrice  should  Apollo  raise  her  wall. 
Thrice  shall  her  brazen  bulwarks  fall, 
Thrice  shall  her  matrons  feel  the  victor's  cluiih. 
Deplore  their  slaughtered  sons,  deplore  their  hu?  = 
bands  slain. 

But  whither  would  the  Muse  aspire  ? 
Such  themes  nor  suit  the  sportive  lyre, 
Nor  should  the  wanton,  thus  in  feeble  strain, 
The  councils  of  the  goda,,  immortal  themes  '  piv 
fafta. 


'il 


ODES.  BOOK  III.  Al; 


ODE  IV. 

TO  CALLIOPE. 
DESCEND  from  heaven,  and  in  a  lengtlieuM 

strain, 
Queen  of  melodious  sounds,  the  song  sustain, 
Or  on  the  voice  high-rais'd  the  breathing  flute, 
^Fhe  lyre  of  golden  tone,  or  sweet  Phcebean  lute. 

Hark  !  some  celestial  voice  I  raptur'd  hear  1 
Or  does  a  pleasing  phren.sy  charm  my  ear  ? 
Through  hallow'd  groves  I  stray,  where  streams 

beneath 
From  lucid  fountains   flow,  and  zepLjrs   balmy 

breathe. 

Fatigued  with  skep,  and  youthful  toil  of  play, 
When  on  a  mountain's  brow  reclin'd  I  lay 
Near  to  ray  natal  soil,  around  my  head 
The  fabled  woodland  doves  a  verdant  foliage  .«spread ; 

Matter,  be  sure,  of  wonder  most  profound  . 
To  all  the  gazing  habitants  around,. 
Who  dwell  in  Acherontia's  airy  glades, 
Amid  the  Bantian  woods,  or  low  Ferenlum's  raeads, 

By  snakes  of  poison  black,,  and  beasts  of  prey, 
That  thus,  in  dewy  sleep  unharmd"d  I  lay  ; 
Laurels  and  myrtle  were  around  ine  pil  d, 
^ot  without  guardian  gods  5.n  animated  child. 

Yours,  I  am  ever  yours,  harmonious  Nine, 
Whether  I  joy  in  Tibur's  vale  supine  ; 
Whether  I  climb  the  Sabine  mountain's  iieighf^ 
Or  in  Pra?ne=to's  groves  or  Baian  stream-s  'kliiih.. 
Vol  J,  10        * 


114         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Nor  iree  devoted,  nor  tempestuous  main. 
Nor  flying  hosts,  that  swept  Philippi's  plain 
In  fearful  rout,  your  filial  bard  destroyed, 
While  in  your  springs  divine  and  choral  sport  =  iir 
joy'd. 

If  by  the  Muses  faithful  guidance  led, 
Or  Libya's  thirsty  sands  I'll  fearless  tread, 
Or  climb  the  venturous  bark,  and  launch  fron 

shore, 
Though  Bosphorus  in  storms  with  madJing  horror- 

roar. 

Nor  Britotts,  of  inhospitable  strain, 
Nor  quiver'd  Scythians,  nor  the  Caspian  man. 
Nor  he  who  joyous  quaffs  the  thirsty  bowl 
-Streaming  with  horses'   blood,    shall  shake   u^j- 
dauntless  soul. 

When  Caesar,  by  your  forming  arts  inspir'd. 
Cheerful  disbands  his  troops,  of  conquest  th'u. 
And  yields  to  willing  Peace  his  laurel'd  spoils. 
In  the  Pierian  cave  you  charm  the  hero's  toils  ;. 

Gracious  from  you  the  lenient  counsels  flow 

Which  bid  the  hero  spare  his  prostrate  foe  ; 

For  Caesar  rales  like  Jove,  whose  equal  swoy 

Tlie  ponderous  mass  of  earth  and  stormy  seas  obe  ^ 

O'er  gods  and  mortals,  o'er  the  dreary  plains, 
And  shadowy  ghosts,  supremely  just  he  reigns 
But,  dreadful  in  his  wrath,  to  hell  pursu'd, 
With  thuni^er's  headlong  rage,  the  fierce  Titan'a. 
brood, 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  IIG 

^    Whose  horrid  youth,  elate  with  impious  pride, 
Unnumberd,  on  the  sinewy  force  relied  : 
Mountain  on  mountain  pil'd  they  rais'd  in  air, 

And  shook  the  throne  of  Jove,  and  bad  the  Tl;uii* 
dererfear. 

But  what  could  Mimas  of  enormous  might, 
Typhffius,  or  Porphyrion's  threatning  height, 
Or  bold  Enceladus  fierce  darting  far 
The  trunks  of  trees  uptorn,  dire  archer  of  the  war. 

Though  with  despair  and  rage  inspir'd  they  rose, 
To  sage  Minerva's  sounding  shield  oppose  ? 
While  Vulcan  here  in  flames  devoured  his  way. 
There  irfatron  Juno  stood,  and  there  the  god  of  day, 

Resolv'd,  till  he  had  quell'd  th'  aspiring  foe, 
Never  to  lay  aside  th'  unerring  bow. 
He  the  pure  dew  of  fair  Castalia  loves, 
There  bathes  his  flowing  hair,  and  haunts  his  natal 
groves. 

'  ilUeounseird  force,  by  its  own  native  weight, 
Precipitately  falls ;  with  happier  fate 
While  the  good  gods  upraise  the  just  design, 

And  bold,  unhallow'd  schemes  pursue  with  wratli 
divine. 

This  truth  shall  hundred-handed  Gyas  prove, 
And  warm  Orion,  who  with  impious  love 
Tempting  the  goddess  of  the  sylvan  scene, 
VV,as  by  her  virgin  darts,  gigantic  victim  I  slain. 


116         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

On  her  own  monsters  hurrd,  with  hideous  weighij. 
Fond  mother  Earth  deplores  her  offspring's  fate'. 
By  thunders  dire  to  livid  Orcus  doom'd, 
Nor  Sre  can  eat  its  way  through  ^Etna  uncon- 
sum'd. 

Such  are  the  pains  to  lawless  lust  decreed  ; 
On  Tityos"  liver  shall  the  vulture  ieed 
With  rage  ungorg'd,  while  Pluto  stern  detains 
His  amorous  rival  bound  in  thrice  an  huudreu 
chains. 


I 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  lir 

ODE  V. 

THE  PRAISES  OF  AUGUSTUS. 

DREAD  Jove  in  thunder  speaks  his  just  domain  ; 
On  earth,  a  present  god,  shall  Caesar  reign, 
Since  world-divided  Britain  owns  his  sway, 
iiid  Parthia's  haughty  sons  his  high  behests  obey. 

O  name  of  country,  once  how  sacred  deem'd '. 
O  sad  reverse  of  manners,  once  esteem'd  ! 
While  Rome  her  ancient  majesty  maintain'd ; 
•  ,1  his  own  Capitol  while  Jove  imperial  reign'd; 

Could  they  to  foreign  spousals  meanly  yield, 
Whom  Crassus  led  with  honour  to  the  field? 
Have  they,  to  their  barbarian  lords  allied, 
«  aown  old  in  hostile  arms  beneath  a  tyrant's  pride. 

Basely  forgetful  of  the  Roman  name, 
The  heaven-descended  shields,  the  Vestal  flame. 
That  wakes  eternal,  and  the  peaceful  gown, 
fhose  emblems  which  the  Fates  with  boundles5 
empire  crown  ? 

When  Regulus  refus'd  the  terms  of  peace 
Inglorious,  he  foresaw  the  deep  disgrace, 
Whose  foul  example  should  in  ruin  end, 
And  even  to  latest  times  our  baffled  arms  attenlV 


Unless  the  captive  youth  in  servile?chains 
Should  fall  unpitied.     In  the  Punic  fanes 
'*'    Have  I  not  seen,  the  patriot  captain  cried, 
The  Roman  ensigns  fix'd  in  monumental  pride 


lis         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

I  saw  our  arms  resign'd  without  a  wound  ; 
Our  free-born  citizens  in  fetters  bound ; 
The  gates  of  Carthage  open,  and  the  plain, 
Late  by  our  war  laid  waste,  with  culture  cloilitl 
again. 

Ransom'd,  no  doubt,  with  nobler  sense  of  fame 
The  soldier  shall  return — ^Ye  purchase  shame. 
When  the  fair  fleece  imbibes  the  dyer's  stain, 
Its  native  colour  lost  it  never  shall  regain, 

And  valour,  failing  in  the  soldier's  breast. 
Scorns  to  resume  what  cowardice  possess'd. 
When  from  the  toils  escap'd  the  hind  shall  turn 
Fierce  on  her  hunters,  he  the  prostrate  foe  may 
spurn 

In  second  fight,  who  felt  the  fetters  bind 
His  arms  enslav'd ;  who  tamely  hath  resign'd 
His  sword  unstain'd  with  blood  ;  who  might  have 
died, 
Yet  on  a  faithless  foe,  with  abject  soul,  relied  ; 

Who  for  his  safety  mix'd  poor  terms  of  peace 
Even  with  the  act  of  war  ;  O  foul  disgrace  ! 
O  Carthage,  now  with  rival  glories  great, 
And  on  the  ruins  rais'd  of  Rome's  dejected  state -I 

The  hero  spoke  ;  and  from  his  wedded  dame 
And  infant-children  turn'd,  opprest  with  shamn 
Of  his  fallen  state;  their  fond  embrace  fepell'd 
And  sternly  on  the  earth  his  manly  visage  held 


ODES,  BOOK  III, 

Till,  by  bis  unexampled  counsel  swayd; 
Their  firm  decree  the  wavering  senate  made  ; 
Then,  while  his  friends  the  tears  of  sorrow  shed, 
Amidst  the  weeping  throng  the  glorious  exile  sptdr 

Nor  did  he  not  the  cruel  tortures  know, 
Vengeful,  prepared  by  a  barbarian  foe  ; 
Yet,  with  a  countenance  serenely  gay, 
ile  turn'd  aside  the  crowd,  who  fondly  pr&ss'd  hirf 
stay  ; 

As  if,  when  wearied  by  some  client's  causC; 
After  the  final  sentence  of  the  laws, 
Cheerful  lie  hasted  to  some  calm  retreat, 
rotable  the  pure  delight?:  that  bless  the  rujal-seaf. 


120    THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE- 

ODE  VI. 
TO  THE  ROMANS. 

THOUGH  guiltless  of  your  fathers"  crime- 
Roman,  'tis  thine,  to  latest  times, 
The  vengeance  of  the  gods  to  bear, 
Till  you  their  awful  domes  repair, 
Profan'd  with  smoke  their  statues  raise, 
And  bid  the  sacred  altars  blaze. 

That  you  the  powers  divine  obey, 
Boundless  on  earth  extends  your  sway  : 
From  hence  your  future  glories  date, 
From  hence  expect  the  hand  of  Fate. 
Th'  offended  gods,  in  horrors  dire, 
On  sad  Hesperia  pour'd  their  ire  : 
The  Parthian  squadrons  twice  repell'd 
Our  inauspicious  powers,  and  quell'd 
Our  boldest  efforts,  while  they  shone 
With  spoils  from  conquered  Romans  v.  or.,. 
The  Dacians,  whose  unerring  art 
Can  wing  with  death  the  pointed  dart ; 
Th'  iEgyptian,  for  liis  navies  fam'd, 
Had  Neptune's  boundless  empire  claim'J, 
And  almost  in  their  rage  destroyed 
Imperial  Rome,  in  civil  strife  employed. 

Fruitful  of  crimes,  this  age  first  stainM 
Their  hapless  offspring,  and  profan'd 
The  nuptial  bed,  from  whence  the  woe?. 
That  various  and  unnumber'd  rose 
From  this  polluted  fountain-head, 
O'er  Rome  and  o'er  the  nations  spread, 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  121 

With  pliant  limbs  the  tender  maid 
^  '^  joys  to  learn  the  shameless  trade 

wanton  dancing,  and  improves 
J.  ;.e  pleasures  of  licentious  loves  ; 
Then  soon  amid  the  bridal  feast 
Boldly  she  courts  her  husband's  guest  : 
Her  love  no  nice  distinction  knows ; 
But  round  the  wandering  pleasure  throws. 
Careless  to  hide  the  bold  delight 
In  darknees  and  the  shades  of  night. 
Nor  does  she  need  the  thin  disguise  ; 
The  conscious  husband  bids  her  rise, 
When  some  rich  factor  courts  her  charms, 
And  calls  the  wanton  to  bis  arms, 
Then,  prodigal  of  wealth  and  fame, 
Profusely  buys  the  costly  shame. 

Not  such  the  youth,  of  such  a  strain, 
Who  dyed  with  Punic  gore  the  main  ; 
Who  Pyrrhu's  flying  war  pursu'd, 
Antiochus  the  Great  subdu'd, 
And  taught  that  terror  of  the  field, 
The  cruel  Hannibal,,  to  yield  : 
But  a  rough  race,  inur'd  to  toil, 
With  heavy  spade  to  turn  the  soil. 
And  by  a  mother's  will  severe 
To  fell  the  wood,  and  liomeward  bear 
The  ponderous  load,  even  when  the  sun 
His  downward  course  of  light  had  run, 
And  from  the  western  mountain's  head 
His  changing  shadows  iengthning  spread, 
Unyok'd  the  team,  with  toil  opprest, 
And  gave  the  friendly  hour  of  rest. 

Vol.  I.  11 


122  THE  WORKS   OF  HORACE. 

What  feels  not  Time's  consuming  rage  ? 
More  vicious  than  their  fathers'  age 
Our  sires  begot  the  present  race. 
Of  manners  impious,  bold  and  base  . 
And  yet  with  crimes  to  us  unknown^ 
Our  sons  shall  mark  the  coming  age  tlicir  own. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  123 

ODE  VII. 

TO  ASTERIE. 

AH  I  why  does  Asterie  thus  weep  for  the  youth 
Of  constancy  faithful,  of  honour  and  truth, 
Whom  the  first  kindly  zephyrs,  that  breathe  o'er 

the  spring, 
Enrich'd  with  the  wares  of  Bithynia  shall  bring  ? 
Driven  back  from  his  course  by  the  tempests,  that 

rise 
When  stars  of  mad  lustre  rule  over  the  skiea, 
At  Oricum  now  poor  Gyges  must  stay, 
Where  sleepless  he  weeps  the  cold  winter  away  ; 
While  his  landlady  Chloe.  in  sorrow  of  heart, 
Bids  her  envoy  of  love  exert  all  his  art, 
Who  tells  him  how  Chloe,  unhappy  the  dame  ! 
Deep  sighs  for  your  lover,  and  burns  in  your  flame. 
He  tells  him  how  Proetus,  deceiv'd  by  his  wife. 
Attempted,  ah  dreadful !  Bellerophon's  life. 
And  urg'd  by  false  crimes,  how  he  sought  to  de- 
stroy 
The  youth  for  refusing,  too  chastely,  the  joy  : 
How  Peleus  was  almost  despatch'd  to  the  dead, 
While  the  lovely  Magnessian  abstemious  he  fled. 
Then  he  turns  every  tale,  and  applies  it  with  art, 
To  melt  down  his  virtue,  and  soften  his  heart ; 
But  constant  and   heart-whole   young  Gyges  ap- 
pears, 
And  deafer  than  rocks  the  tale-teller  hears. 
Then,  fair-one,  take  heed,  lest  Enipeus  should  prove 
A  little  too  pleasing,  and  tempt  thee  to  love  ; 


lU  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

And  though  without  rival  he  shine  in  the  course. 
To  rein  the  fierce  steed  though  unequal  his  force, 
Tho'  matchless  the  swiftness  with  which  he  divides. 
In  crossing  the  Tiber;  the  rough-swelling  tides. 
Yet  shut  the  fond  door  at  evening's  first  shade. 
Nor  look  down  to  the  street  at  the  soft  serenade 
Or  if  cruel  he  call  thee  in  love-sighing  strain, 
Yet  more  and  more  cruel  be  sure  to  rcmain^ 


ODES,  BOOK  111.        i-2o 

ODE  vm. 

TO  MAECENAS. 

THE  Greek  and  Roman  languages  are  thine. 
Their  hallow'd  customs,  and  their  rites  divine  ; 
And  well  you  might  the  flowery  wreaths  admire. 
The  fragrant  incense,  and  the  sacred  fire, 
Rais'd  on  the  living  turf,  to  hail  the  day 
To  which  the  married  world  their  homage  pay. 

When  on  my  head  a  tree  devoted  fell, 
And  almost  crush'd  me  to  the  shades  of  hell, 
Grateful  I  vow'd  to  him,  who  rules  the  vine, 
A  joyous  banquet,  while  beneath  his  shrine 
A  snow-white  goat  should  bleed ,  and  when  the  yeo) 
Revolving  bids  this  festal  morn  appear. 
We'll  pierce  a  cask  with  mellow  juice  replete. 
Mellowed  with  smoke  since  Tullus  rul'd  the  state. 

Come  then,  Maecenas,  and  for  friendship's  sake. 
A  friend  preserved,  a  hundred  bumpers  take. 
Come  drink  the  watchful  tapers  up  to  day. 
While  noise  and  quarrels  shall  be  far  away. 
No  more  let  Rome  your  anxious  thoughts  engage. 
The  Dacian  falls  beneath  the  victor's  rage, 
The  Medes  in  civil  wars  their  arms  employ, 
Inglorious  wars !  each  other  to  destroy  ; 
Our  ancient  foes,  the  haughty  sons  of  Spain, 
At  length,  indignant,  feel  the  Roman  chain  ; 
With  bows  unbent  the  hardy  Scythians  yield, 
Resolv'd  to  quit  the  long-disputed  field. 
No  more  the  public  claims  thy  pious  fears  : 
Be  not  too  anxious  then  with  private  cares, 
But  seize  the  gifts  the  present  moment  brings, 
Those  fleeting  gifts,  and  leave  severer  thing.?. 


13G        THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  EK. 

A  DIALOGUE  BETWEEN  HORACE  AND 
LYDIA. 

Horace. 
WHILE  I  was  pleasing  to  your  armi, 
Nor  any  youth,  of  happier  charms, 
Thy  snowy  bosom  blissful  pressM, 
Not  Persia's  king  like  me  was  blest. 

Ltjdia. 
While  for  no  other  fair  you  burn'd, 
Nor  Lydia  was  for  Chloe  scorn'd, 
What  maid  was  then  so  blest  as  thine  ? 
Not  Ilia's  fame  could  equal  mine. 

Horace. 
Now  Chloe  reigns  ;  her  voice  and  lyre 
Melt  down  the  soul  to  soft  desire ; 
Nor  will  I  fear  even  death,  to  save 
Her  dearer  beauties  from  the  grave. 

Lydia. 
My  heart  young  Calais  inspires, 
Whose  bosom  glows  with  mutual  fires, 
For  whom  I  twice  would  die  with  joy, 
If  death  would  spare  the  charming^boy. 

Horace. 
Vet  what  if  Love,  whose  bands  we  broke, 
A  gain  should  tame  us  to  the  yoke ; 
Should  I  shake  off  bright  Chloe's  chain,. 
And  take  my  Lydia  home  again  ? 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  127 

Lydia. 
Though  lie  exceed  in  beauty  far 
The  rising:  lustre  of  a  star  ; 
Though  light  as  cork  thy  fancy  strays, 
Thy  passions  wild  as  angry  seas, 
When  vex'd  with  storms  ;  yet  gladly  I 
With  thee  would  live,  with  thee  would  die. 


128  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  X. 
TO  LYCE. 

THOUGH  you  drank  the  deep  stream  of  Tanai'^ 

icy, 
The  wife  of  some  barbarous  blockhead,  O  Lyce, 
Yet  your  heart  might  relent  to  expose  me  recliuM 
At  your  cruel-shut  door  to  the  rage  of  the  wind. 
Hark,  your  gate  !  how  it  creaks !  how  the  grove. 

planted  round 
Your  beautiful  villa,  re-bellows  the  sound  I 
How  Jupiter  numbs  all  the  regions  below, 
And  glazes  with  crystal  the  fleeces  of  snow  ! 
Away  with  these  humours  of  pride  and  disdaii). 
To  Venus  ungrateful,  to  Cupid  a  pain, 
Lest  while  by  the  pulley  you  raise  to  the  top. 
Your  rope  should  run  back,  and  your  bucket  should 

drop. 
No  sprightly  Tyrrhenian  begot  thee  a  prude. 
Another  Penelope,  harsh  to  be  woo'd. 
O,  though  neither  presents,  nor  vow-sighing  strain. 
Nor  violet  painting  the  cheek  of  thy  swain. 
Nor  thy  husband,  who  gives  up  his  heart  for  a  ditty 
To  a  song-singing  wench,  can  provoke  thee  to  pity  ; 
Though  like  the  hard  oak  you're  to  softness  inclined . 
And  milder  than  all  of  the  serpentine  kind, 
Yet  think  not  this  ^de  can  forever  sustain 
Tliv  threshold  hard-hearted,  and  skv-fallin"-  rap; 


ODES;  BOOK  III.  139 

I 

ODE  XI. 
TO  MERCURY. 

O  THOU,  by  whose  harmonious  aid 
Amphion's  voice  the  listening  stones  could  lead 

And  sweetest  shell  of  power  to  raise, 
On  seven  melodious  strings,  thy  various  lays  ; 
-    Not  vocal,  when  you  first  were  found. 
But  of  a  simple  and  ungrateful  sound  ; 

Now  tun'd  so  sweetly  to  the  ear, 
That  gods  and  men  with  sacred  rapture  hear  ; 

Oh  !  thou  inspire  the  melting  strain 
To  charm  my  Lyde's  obstinate  disdain. 

Who  like  a  filly  o'er  the  field 
With  playful  spirit  bounds,  and  fears  to  yield 

To  hand  of  gentlest  touch,  or  prove. 
Wild  as  she  is,  the  joys  of  wedded  love. 

'Tis  yours,  with  all  their  beasts  of  prey, 
To  bid  the  forests  move,  and  powerful  stay 

The  rapid  stream.     The  dog  of  hell, 
Immense  of  bulk,  to  thee  soft-soothing  fell, 

And  suppliant  bow'd,  though  round  his  head 
His  hundred  snakes  their  guardian  horrors  spread 

Baleful  his  breath  though  fiery  glow'd. 
And  from  his  three-tongued  jaws  fell  poison  flow'd. 

Ixion,  of  his  pmins  beguil'd, 
And  Tityos,  with  unwilling  pleasure,  smiPd  ; 

Dry  stood  their  urn,  while  with  soft  strain 
You  sooth'd  the  labours  of  tiie  virgin  train. 

Let  Lyde  hear,  what  pains,  decreed, 
Though  late,  in  death  attend  the  direful  deed. 


130         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

There  doom'd  to  fill,  unceasing  task  ! 
With  idle  toil,  an  ever-streaming  cask ; 

Impious,  who  in  the  hour  of  rest 
Could  plunge  their  daggers  in  a  husband's  breast. 

Yet  worthy  of  the  nuptial  flame, 
And  nobly  meriting  a  deathless  name, 

Of  many,  one  untainted  maid, 
Gloriously  false,  her  perjur'd  sire  betray'd. 

Thus  to  her  youthful  lord Arise  ; 

Awake,  lest  sleep  eternal  close  thine  eyes  ; 

Eternal  sleep  :  and  ah  !  from  whom 
You  little  dreaded  the  relentless  doom. 

Oh!  fly,  my  lord,  this  wrathful  sire; 
Far  from  my  sisters  fly,  those  sisters  dire, 

Who  riot  in  their  husbands'  blood, 
As  lionesses  rend  their  panting  food  ; 

While  I,  to  such  fell  deed  a  foe, 
Nor  bind  thee  here,  nor  strike  the  fatal  blow. 

Me  let  my  father  load  with  chains, 
Or  banish  to  Numidia's  farthest  plains  : 

My  crime,  that  I,  a  loyal  wife. 
In  mercy  spar'd  a  wretched  husband's  life. 

While  Venus,  and  the  shades  of  night 
Protect  thee,  speed,  by  sea  or  land,  thy  flight ; 

May  every  happy  omen  wait 
To  guide  thee  through  this  gloomy  hour  of  Fate 

Yet  not  forgetful  of  my  doom, 
Engrave  thy  grateful  sorrows  on  my  tomb. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  131 

ODE  XII. 
TO  NEOBULE. 

U2VHAPPY  the  maidens  forbidden  to  prove 
The  bumper's  fuli  joy,  or  the  raptures  of  love  ; 
Unhappy  the  girls,  who  are  destin'd  to  hear 
The  tedious  rebukes  of  old  uncles  severe. 

Cytherea's  wing'd  son  now  bids  thee  resign 
The  toils  of  Minerva,  the  spinster  divine  ; 
For  now,  Neobule,  with  other  desires 
The  brightness  of  Hebrus  thy  bosom  inspires  ; 
When  he  rises  with  vigour  fromTiber's  rough  wave? . 
Where  the  oil  of  his  labours  athletic  he  laves, 
Like  Bellerophon  skilful  to  rein  the  fierce  steed, 
•At  cuffs  never  eonquer'd,nor  out-stripp'd  in  speed. 
And  dextrous,  with  darts  never  flying  in  vain. 
To  wound  the  light  stag  bounding  over  the  plain,. 
Or  active  and  valiant  the  boar  to  surprise, 
Transfix'd  with  his  spear,  as  in  covert  he  lies. 


132  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  xm. 

TO  THE  FOUNTAIN  BANDUSIA 

FOUNTAIN,  whose  waters  far  surpass 
The  shining  face  of  polish'd  glass, 
To  thee,  the  goblet,  crown'd  with  flowers.. 
Grateful  the  rich  libation  pours  ; 
A  goat,  whose  horns  begin  to  spread, 
And  bending  arm  his  swelling  head, 
Whese  bosom  glows  with  young  desircF. 
Which  war  or  kindling  love  inspires, 
Now  meditates  his  blow  in  vain, — 
His  blood  shall  thy  fair  fountain  stain. 
When  the  fierce  dog-stav's  fervid  ray 
Flames  forth,  and  sets  on  fire  the  day, 
To  vagrant  flocks,  that  range  the  field. 
You  a  refreshihg  coolness  yield  ; 
Or  to  the  labour-wearied  team 
Pour  forth  the  freshness  of  thy  stream. 
Soon  shalt  thou  flow  u  noble  spring, 
While  \a  immortal  ver.se  I  sing 
The  oak  that  spreads  thy  rocks  around, 
From  whence  thy  babbling  waters  bound, 


ODES,  BOOK  JII. 


K  ODE  XIV. 

ON  THE  RETURN  OF  AUGUSTUS  FROM 
SPAIN. 

THY  prince,  O  Rome,  who  foreign  realms 
Explor'd  like  Jove's  immortal  son, 

Fearless  to  search  the  laurel  wreath 
By  death  and  gioriou=  daring  won, 

V^ictorious  comes  from  fartliest  Spain, 
To  Rome  and  all  his  guardian  gods  again. 

Let  her,  who  to  her  arms  .receives 

With  joy  her  own,  her  laurel'd  spouse, 
<;  Her  private  sacrifice  perform'd, 

Pay  to  just  Heaven  her  public  vows. 
And  let  the  fair  Cctavia  lead 
The  matron-train  in  suppliant  veils  array 'd  ; 

The  matron-train,  to  whose  glad  arms 
Their  sons,  with  conquest  crown'd,  return  ; 

And  yoU;  fair  youth,  whose  pious  tears 
Your  slaughter'd  sires  and  husbands  mourn, 

This  day  at  least  your  griefs  restrain. 
And  luckless  from  ill-omen'd  words  abstain. 

This  day,  with  truly  festal  joy, 

Shall  drive  all  gloomy  cares  away  ; 
For,  while  imperial  Caesar  holds 

O'er  the  glad  Earth  his  awful  sway, 
Nor  fear  of  death  from  foreign  arms, 
Or  civil  rage,  my  dauntless  soul  alarms. 


134         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Boy,  bring  us  essence,  bring  us  crowns  ; 

Pierce  me  a  cask  of  ancient  date, 
Big  with  the  storied  Marsian  war, 

And  with  its  glorious  deeds  replete, 
If  yet  one  jovial  cask  remain 
Since  wandering  Spartacus  o'erewept  the  plain. 

Invite  Neeera  to  the  feast. 

Who  sweetly  charms  the  listening  ear. 
And  bid  the  fair  one  haste  to  bind 

In  careless  wreaths  her  essenc'd  hair  ; 
But  should  her  porter  bid  you  stay, 
Leave  the  rough,  surly  rogue,  and  come  awa_\ . 

When  hoary  age  upon  our  heads 

Pours  down  its  chilling  weight  of  snow?. 
No  more  the  breast  with  anger  burns, 

No  more  with  amorous  heat  it  glows  : 
Such  treatment  Horace  would  not  bear. 
When  warm  with  youth,  when  Plancus  fiird  the 
consul's  chair. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.       ur, 

ODE  XV. 
TO  CHLORIS. 

THOU  poor  man's  incumbrance,  thou  rake  of  i< 

wife. 
At  length  put  an  end  to  this  imfamous  life  ; 
Now  near  thy  long  home,  to  be  rank'd  with  thf 

shades, 
Give  over  to  frisk  it  with  buxom  young  maids, 
And,  furrow'd  with  wrinkle?,  profanely  to  shroud 
Those  bright  constellations  with  age's  dark  cloud. 

What  Pholoe  well,  with  a  decency  free, 
Might.practice,  sits  awkward,  O  Chloris,  on  thee. 
Like  her,  whom  the  timbrel  of  Bacchus  arouses 
Thy  daughter  may  better  lay  siege  to  the  house? 
Of  youthful  gallants,  while  she  wantonly  gambols. 
Of  Nothus  enamour'd,  like  a  goat  in  its  rambles  ; 
The  spindle,  the  distaff,  and  wool-spinning  thrifty. 
Not  musical  instruments,  fit  thee  at  fifty. 
Nor  roses  impurpled  enriching  the  breeze, 
Nor  hogsheads  of  liquor  drunk  down  to  the  lee?. 


136         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  XVI. 

TO  MAECENAS. 

OF  watchful  dogs  an  odious  ward 
Might  well  one  hapless  virgin  guard. 
When  in  a  tower  of  brass  immur'd, 
And  by  strong  gates  of  oak  secur'd, 
Although  by  mortal  gallants  lewd 
With  all  their  midnight  arts  pursued, 
Had  not  great  Jove  and  Venus  fair 
Laugh'd  at  her  father's  fruitless  care  : 
For  well  they  knew  no  fort  could  hold 
Against  a  god  transformed  to  gold. 

Stronger  than  thunder's  winged  force 
All-powerful  gold  can  speed  its  course, 
Through  watchful  guards  its  passage  make. 
And  loves  through  solid  walls  to  break  : 
From  gold  the  overwhelming  woes, 
That  crush'd  the  Grecian  augur,  rose; 
Philip  with  gold  througli  cities  broke, 
And  rival  monarch»  felt  his  yoke ; 
Captains  of  ships  to  gold  are  slaves, 
Though  fierce  as  their  own  winds  and  wave- 
Yet  anxious  care,  and  thirst  of  more, 
Attend  the  still  increasing  store. 

While  you  in  humble  rank  appear, 
Gracing  the  knighthood  that  you  wear, 
By  your  example  taught,  I  dread 
To  raise  the  far  conspicuous  head. 
The  more  we  to  ourselves  deny, 
The  more  the  gods  our  wants  supply. 
Far  from  the  quarters  of  the  great. 
Happy,  tliough  naked^  I  retreat. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  13? 

And  to  th'  unwishing  few  with  joy 
A  blest  and  bold  deserter  fly, 
Possest  of  what  the  great  despiaC; 
In  real,  richer  poiup  I  rise, 
Than  if,  from  fair  Apulia's  plain, 
Istor'd  in  heaps  the  various  grain, 
While  of  the  wealthy  mass  secure, 
Amidst  the  rich  abundance  poor. 

The  streamlet,  flowing  through  my  ground  , 
The  wood,  which  a  few  acres  bound  ; 
The  little  farm  of  kindly  Boil, 
Nor  faithless  to  its  master's  toil. 
Shall  tell  the  consul,  whose  domain 
Extends  o'er  Africa'?^  fert-le  plain, 
Though  of  his  envied  lot  possest, 
He  ne'er  shuii  be  liKe  Horace  blest. 

Though  nor  the  fam'd  Calabrian  bee 
Collect  its  golden  sweets  for  me  : 
For  me  no  Forraian  vintage  grows, 
With  mellow'd  warrith  where  Bacchus  flows 
Nor  on  the  verdant  G  ;llic  mead 
My  flocks  of  richer  fi.^^ces  feed  : 
Yet  am  I  not  with  wan:  opnrest, 
Which  vainly  seeks  the  ;^ort  of  rest, 
Nor  would  thy  bounteous  hand  deny 
M}'  larger  wishes  to  supply  ■ 
But  while  those  wishes  I  resrrain. 
Farther  I  stretch  my  small  domain 
Than  could  I  distant  kingdomsjoin. 
And  make  united  eih^irris  mine  : 
For  sure  the  sate  of  man  is  such, 
They  greatly  want,  who  covet  much  : 
THfen  happy  he,  whom  heaven  has  fed 
with  frugal  but  sufficient  bread. 

VoT..  I.  12 


138         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 
ODE  xvn. 

TO  iELIUS  LAMIA- 

/ELIUS,  whose  ancient  lineage  springs 
From  Laraus/ founder  of  the  name 

(From  whom  a  sacred  line  of  kings 
Shines  through  the  long  records  of  fame. 

From  whom  th'  illustrious  race  arose,     . 

Who  first  possess'd  the  Formian  towevF, 
And  reign'd  where  Liris  smoothly  flows 

To  fair  Marica's  marshy  shores,) 

if  the  old  shower-foretelling  crow 
Croak  not  her  boding  note  in  vain, 

To-morrow's  eastern  storm  shall  strow 
The  woods  with  leaves,  with  weeds  the  maJ»?. 

Then  pile  the  fuel  while  you  may, 
And  cheer  your  spirit  high  with  wine ; 

Give  to  your  slaves  one  idle  day, 
And  feast  upon  the  fatted  swine. 


'i 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  139 

ODE  XVIII. 
TO  FAUNUS. 


FAUNUS,  who  with  eager  flame 
Chase  the  Nymphs,  thy  flying  game. 
If  a  tender  kid  disdain, 
Each  returning  year,  thy  fane, 
If  with  wine  we  raise  the  soul 
I  Social  Venus  loves  the  bowl,) 
If  thy  consecrated  shrine 
"^moke  with  odours, — breath  divine  ! 
>  lently  traverse  o'er  my  bounds, 
« iently  through  my  sunny  ground?^ 
riracious  to  my  fleecy  breed, 
Sporting  o'er  the  flowery  mead. 
See  my  flocks  in  sportive  vein 
Frisk  it  o'er  the  verdant  plain, 
When  through  winter's  gloom  thy  da_v 
Festal  shines,  the  peasants  play 
On  the  grassy -matted  soil, 
Round  their  oxen,  free  from  toil. 
See  the  wolf  forgets  his  prey, 
With  my  daring  lambs  to  play  ; 
••^ee  the  forest's  bending  head 
At  thy  feet  its  honours  shed, 
While  with  joyful  foot  the  swain 
Jkats  the  glebe  he  plough'd  with  pain. 


140         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XIX. 

TO  TELEPHUS. 

WHEN  Inachus  reign'd  to  thee  is  notorious, 
When  slain  for  his  country  was  Codrus  the  glorious; 
Wlien  govern'd   the   monarchs   from  Peleus   de- 
scended ; 
When  Troy  was  besieged,  and  so  bravely  defended  , 
But  where  the  best  Chian,  or  what  it  may  cost  ye, 
Or  how  we  may  warm  the  long  winter  and  frosty, 
Or  temper  our  water  with  embers  so  glowing, 
Ah!  Telephus,  here  thou  art  strangely  unknowing. 
Here's  a  bumper  to  Midnight  ;  to  Luna's  first 
shining  ; 
A  third  to  our  friend  in  his  post  of  divining. 
Come  fill  up  the  bowl,  then  fill  up  your  bumpers. 
Let  three,  or  thrice  three,  be  the  jovial  of  number.^. 
The  poet,  enraptur'd,  sure  never  refuses 
His  brimmers  thrice   three   to  his  odd-number'd 

Muses  : 
But  the  Graces,  in  naked  simplicity  cautious, 
Are  afraid,  more  than  three  might  to  quarrels  de- 
bauch us. 
Sjay  frolic,  and  mirth,  to  madness  shall  fire  us  ; 
Why  breathes  not  the  flute,  then,  with  joy  to  in- 
spire us  ? 
Why  hang  on  the  wall,  in  silence  dolorous, 
The  soft-swelling  pipe  and  the  hautboy  sonorous  ? 
I  hate  all  the  slaves,  who  are  sparing  of  labour  : 
Give  us  roses  abundant,  and  let  our  old  neighbour. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  141 

With  his  damsel,  ill-suited  to  such  an  old  fellow^ 
Even  burst  with  his  envy  to  hear  us  so  mellow. 
Poor  Horace  in  flames,  how  slowly  consuming  ! 
For  Glycera  burns,  while  Chloethe  blooming 
Her  Telephus courts,  whose  tressea  are  beaming. 
As  are  the  brigfht  rays  from  Vesperus  streamin|r 


I» 

I 


ODE  XX. 

TO  PYRRHUS. 


YRRHUS,  you  tempt  a  danger  high, 
hen  you  would  steal  from  angry  li- 
ess  her  cubs,  and  soon  shall  fly 
Insriorious. 
aat  wars  of  horrid  form  arise, 
rough  crowds  of  lovers  when  she  flies 
seek  her  boy,  and  snatch  the  prize. 
Victorious  ! 

I  shoot  ;  she  whets  her  tusks  to  bite  ; 
,  hile  he,  who  sits  to  judge  the  fight, 
Treads  on  the  palm  with  foot  so  white. 

Disdainful ; 
And  sweetly  floating  in  the  air, 
V/anton  he  spreads  his  fragrant  hair. 
i'iGanymed©,  or  Nireus  fair. 

And  vain fu I. 


142        THE, WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XXI. 
TO  HIS  CASK. 

GENTLE  cask  of  mellow  wine, 
And  of  equal  age  with  mine  ; 
Whether  you  to  broils  or  mirth; 
Or  to  madding' love  give  birth  ; 
Or  the  toper's  tempels  «teep 
Sweetly  in  ambrosial  sleep  ; 
For  whatever  various  use 
You  preserve  the  chosen  juice,. 
Worthy  of  some  festal  hour, 
Now  the  hoary  vintage  pour  : 
Come — Corvinus,  guest  divine, 
Bids  me  draw  the  smoothest  wine. 

Though  with  science  deep  imbued. 
He,  not  like  a  Cynic  rude, 
Thee  despises  ,  I'or  of  old 
Cato's  virtue,  we  are  told, 
Often  with  a  bumper  glow'd. 
And  with  social  raptures  flow'd. 

You  by  gentle  tortures  oft 
Melt  hard  tempers  into  soft  ; 
You  strip  off  the  grave  disguise 
From  the  counsels  of  the  wise, 
And  with  Bacchus,  blithe  and  gny. 
Bring  them  to  the  face  of  day. 
Hope  by  thee,  fair  fugitive  ! 
IBids  the  wretched  strive  to  live  ; 
To  the  beggar  you  dispense 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  143 

\    Heart  and  brow  of  confidence  : 

Warm'd  by  thee,  he  scorns  to  fear 

Tyrant's  frown  or  soldier's  spear. 
Bacchus  boon,  and  Venus  fair 

(If  she  come  with  cheerful  air.) 

And  the  Graces,  charming  band  ! 

Ever  dancing  hand  in  hand  ; 

And  the  living  taper's  flame, 

Shall  prolong  thy  purple  stream, 
**.  Till  returning  Phoebus  bright 
-^  Put?  the  lazv  stars  to  flidit. 


H4  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XXII. 
TO  DIANA. 

OF  groves  and  mountains  guardian  maid,. 

Invok'd  by  three  mysterious  names  ; 
Goddess  three-form'd,  whose  willing  aid 
With  gracious  pow'r  appears  displayed, 

From  death  to  save  our  pregnant  dames 

To  thee  I  consecrate  the  pine, 

That  nodding  waves  my  villa  round, 
And  here,  beneath  thy  hallow'd  shrine, 
Vearly  shall  bleed  a  festal  swine, 
'J'liat  meditates  the  side-long  wound. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  i45 

ODE  XXIII. 

TO  PHIDYLE. 

IF  oa  the  new-born  moon,  with  hands  supine^ 

My  Phidyle,  laborious  rustic,  prays  ; 
;  she  with  incense,  and  a  ravening  swine, 
And  yearly  fruits,  her  household  gods  appease, 

K,  Nor  pestilential  storm  shall  smite  her  vines, 
B^    Nor  barren  mildew  shall  her  harvests  fear ; 
HlNof  shall  her  flocks,  when  the  sad  year  declines, 
Br     Beneath  its  fruitage,  feel  th'  autumnal  air. 

Let  the  devoted  herds,  that  lowing  feed 
In  snow-tcpt  Algidon's  high-branching  wood 

vJr  the  fair  liine  of  rich  Albania,  bleed, 

And  stain  the  pontifl's  hallow'd  axe  with  biooJ.' 

le  little  gods,  around  thy  sacred  fire, 
Xo  vast  profusion  of  the  victim's  gore^ 
i-!Lit  pliant  myrtle  wreaths  alone  require, 
^         And  fragrant  herbs,  the  pinus,  rural  store. 

I  \  grateful  cake,  when  on  the  hallow-'d  shrine 
^  Offer'dby  hands  that  know  no  gnilty  staiu^ 
t:     Sliall  reconcile  th'offended  powers  divine, 

Wlien  bleeds  the  pompous  hecatomb  iu  v^ia. 


VV>jr,. 


H6  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XXIV. 

AGAINST  MISERS. 

THOUGH  of  th-unri^ed  gold  possest 
Of  gorgeous  Ind,  and  Aruby  the  blest ; 

Though  with  hewn,  massy  rocks  you  raise 
jtTour  haughty  structures  midst  th'iudignant  seai 

Yet,  soon  as  Fate  shall  round  your  head, 
With  adamantine  strength,  its  terrors  spread, 

Nor  the  dictator's  power  shall  save 
Your  soul  from  fear,  your  body  from  the  grave*, 

Happy  the  Scythians,  houseless  train  ! 
Who  roll  their  vagrant  dwellings  o'er  the  plaii:  ■ 

Happy  the  Getes  fierce  and  brave, 
Whom  no  fix'd  laws  of  property  enslave  ; 

While  open  stands  the  golden  grain, 
rhe  free-born  fruitage  of  th'unbounded  plair. 

Succeeding  yearly  to  the  toil, 
i^hey  plough  with  equal  tasks  the  public  soil 

Not  there  the  guiltless  step-dame  know  s 
The  baleful  draught  for  orphaws  to  compo5<r; 

No  wife  higb-portion'd  rules  her  spouse, 
Or  trusts  heressenced  lover's  faithless  vows 

The  lovers  there  for  dowry  claim 
I'he  father's  virtue  and  the  mother's  famc^. 

That  dares  not  break  the  nuptial  tie, 
I'olluted  crime  !  whose  portion  is  to  die. 

O  that  some  patriot,  wise  and  good, 
Would  stop  this  impious  thirst  of  civil  bloody. 

And  joy  on  statues  to  behold 
His  name,  the  Father  of  the  State,  enroll'd 
Oh  !  let  him  quell  our  spreading  shame, 
Mid  live  to  latest  times  an  honour'dnamc 


I 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  W 

Though  living  Virtue  we  despise, 
"^Ve  follow  her,  when  dead,  with  envious  eyev. 

But  wherefore  do  we  thus  complain, 
If  Justice  wear  her  awful  sword  in  vain  ? 

And  what  are  laws,  unless  obey'd 
By  the  same  moral  virtues  they  were  made  ? 

If  neither  burning  heats  extreme, 
Where  eastern  Phoebus  darts  his  fiercest  beam. 

Nor  where  the  northern  tempest  blows, 
And  freezes  down  to  earth  th'eternal  snows, 

Nor  the  wild  terrors  of  the  main 
Can  daunt  the  merchant,  and  his  voyage  restrln  ; 

If  want,  ah  dire  disgrace  !  we  fear, 
From  thence  with  vigour  act,  with  patience  beai"; 

While  Virtue's  paths  untrodden  lie. 
Those  paths  that  lead  us  upwards  to  the  sky  ? 

Oh  !  let  us  consecrate  to  Jove 
(Rome  shall  with  shouts  the  pious  deed  approve) 

Our  gems,  our  gold,  pernicious  store  ! 
Or  plunge  into  the  deep  the  baleful  ore. 

If  you  indeed  your  crimes  detest. 
Tear  forth,  uprooted  from  the  youthful  breasK 

The  seeds  of  each  deprav'd  desire, 
'  hile  manly  toils  a  firmer  soul  inspire. 

Nor  knows  cur  youth,  of  noblest  race, 
To  mount  the  manag'd  steed  or  urge  the  chase  , 

More  skill'd  in  the  mean  arts  of  vice, 
The  whirling  troque,  or  law-forbidden  dice  : 

And  yet  his  worthless  heir  to  raise 
To  hasty  wealth,  the  perjur'd  sire  betrays 

His  partners,  co-heirs,  and  his  fiiends  ; 
But,  while  in  heaps  his  wicked  wealth  ascends. 

He  is  not  of  his  wish  possest. 
There's  somethine  wanting-  still  to  make  him  blest 


J.18    THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 
ODE  XXV. 

TO  BACCHUS. 

WHITHER,  in  sacred  ecstasy, 
Bacchus,  when  full  of  thy  divinity, 

Dost  thou  transport  me  ?  To  what  glades  ? 
What  gloomy  caverns,  unfrequented  shades  ? 

In  what  i-ecesses  shall  I  raise 
My  voice  to  sacred  Cassar's  deathless  praise,^ 

Amid  the  stars  to  bid  him  shine, 
Rank'd  in  the  councils  of  the  powers  divine  ? 

Some  bolder  song  shall  wake  the  lyre, 
And  sounds  unknown  its  trembling  strings  inspire. 

Thus  o'er  the  steepy  mountain's  height. 
Starting  from  sleep,  thy  priestess  takes  her  flight.; 

Amaz'd  beholds  the  Thracian  snows, 
With  languid  streams  where  icy  Heber  flows, 

Or  Rhodope's  high-towering  head. 
Where  frantic  fchoirs  barbarian  measures  tread. 

O'er  pathless  rocks,  through  lonely  grove.^. 
With  what  delight  my  raptur'd  spirit  roves  ! 

O  thou,  who  rul'stthe  Naiad's  breast ; 
By  whom  the  Bacchanalian  maids,  possesst 

With  [sacred  rage  inspir'd  by  thee, 
Tear  from  the  bursting  glebe  th'  uprooted  tree, 

Nothing  or  low,  or  mean,  I  sing, 
No  mortal  sound  shall  shake  the  swelling  string. 

The  venturous  theme  ray  soul  alarms, 
Butwavm'd  by  thee  the  thought  of  danger  charm^' 

When  vine-crown'd  Bacchus  leads  the  way, 
What  can  his  daring  votaries  dismay  ? 


ODES,  BOOK  m,        349 

ODE  XXVI. 
TO  VENUS 

I  LATELY  was  fit  to  be  call'd  upon  dut}  , 
And  gallantly  fought  in  the  service  of  beauty  : 
But  now  crown'd  with  conquest  I  hang  up  my  arm; .. 
My  harp,  that  campaign'd  it  in  midnight  alarms  : 
Here  fix  on  this  wall,  here  my  ensigns  of  wars, 
By  the  statue  of  Venus,  my  torches  and  bars, 
And  arrows,  which  threaten'd.  by  Cupid  their  Ue.ge 
War,  war  on  all  doors  that  dare  hold  out  a  siege. 

O  goddess  of  Cyprus,  and  Memphis  that  know 
Nor  the  coldness  or  weight  of  love-chilling  snon  ■ 
With  a  high-lifted  stroke,  yet  gently  severe, 
Avenge  me  on  Chloe,  the  proud  and  the  fair. 


ODE  XXVII. 

TO  GALATEA. 

FIERCE  from  her  cubs  the  ravening  fox 
Or  wolf  from  steep  Lanuvian  rocks. 
Or  pregnant  bitch,  or  chatteringjay, 
II!-omen'd;  guide  the  wicked  on  their  way  : 

Serpents,  like  arrows,  sidelong  thwart- 
The  road,  and  make  their  horses  start. 
For  those  I  love,  with  ansious  fear 
ew  the  doubtful  skies,  a  prudent  seer. 


350         THE  WORKS  OF  IIOEACE 

And  bid  the  chanting  raven  rise 
When  Phoebus  gilds  his  orient  skies, 
Ere  speeds  the  shower-boding  crow 

To  lakes,  whose  languid  waters  cease  to  flow. 
Happy  may  Galatea  prove, 
Nor  yet  unmindful  of  our  love. 
For  now  no  luckless  pye  prevails, 

Nop  vagrant  crow  forbids  the  swelling  sails. 

Yet  see  what  storms  tumultuous  rise, 
While  prone  Orion  sweeps  the  skies. 
I  know  the  Adriatic  main, 

And  western  winds,  perfidiously  sersnc. 
But  may  the  rising  tempest  shake 
Our  foes,  and  dreadful  o'er  them  break  : 
For  them  the  blackening  ocean  roar, 

And  angry  surges  lash  the  trembling  shor^: 
When  on  her  bull  Europa  rode 
Nor  knew  she  press'd  th'  imperial  god, 
Bold  as  she  was,  th'  affrighted  maid 

The  rolling  monsters  of  the  deepsurvey-J. 
Late  for  the  rural  nymphs  she  chose 
Each  flower,  a  garland  to  compose, 
But  now  beneath  the  gloom  of  night. 

Views  nought  but  seas,  and  stars  of  feeble  light! 
Soon  as  she  touch'd  the  Cretan  shore, 
My  sire,  she  cries, — ah  !   mine  no  more. 
For  every  pious,  tender  name 

la  madly  lost  in  this  destructive  flame. 
Where  am  I,  wretched  and  undone  ? 
And  shall  a  single  death  atone 
A  virgin's  crime  ?  Or  do  my  fears 

Deplore  the  guilty  deed  with  waking  tears  l 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  I'A 

Or  am  1  yet.  ah  !  pure  from  shame, 
3Iock"d  by  a  vain  delusive  dream  ? 
Could  I  my  springing  flowret?  leave, 
To  tempt  through  length  of  seas  the  faithless  wave'* 

While  thus  withjust  revenge  possest. 
How  could  I  tear  that  monstrous  beast ! 
How  could  I  break,  by  rage  inspir'd, 
Those  horns,  alas  !  tco  fondly  once  admir'd  I 

Shameless,  my  father's  gods  I  fly  ; 
Shameless,  and  yet  I  fear  to  die. 
Hear  me,  som^e  gracious  heavenly  power^ 
T.rt  lions  fell  this  naked  corse  devour. 

My  cheeks  ere  hollow  wrinkles  seize^ 
Ere  yet  their  rosy  bloom  decays, 
While  youth  yet  rolls  its  vital  flood, 
Le:  tigers  fiercely  riot  in  my  blood. 

But  hark  1  I  hear  my  father  cry, 
Make  haste,  unhappy  maid,  to  die, 
And  if  a  pendant  fate  you  choose, 
x'our  faithful  girdle  gives  the  kindly  noose  , 

Or,  if  you  like  a  iieadlong  death. 
Behold  the  pointed  rock  beneath  ; 
Or  plunge  into  the  rapid  wave, 

N'or  live  on  haughty  tasks,  a  spinster  slave- 
Some  rude  barbarian's  concubine, 
Born  as  thou  art  of  royal  line. 
Here  the  perfidious-srailling  dame 

Ard  kae  Cupid  to  the  mourner  came  ; 


152         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACi; 

Awhile  she  rallied  with  the  fair, 
Then  vrith  a  g;rave  and  serious  air, 
Indulge,  she  cries,  thy  rage  no  more, 
This  odious  bull  shall  yield  him  to  thy  powev 

Yet  sigh  no  more,  but  think  of  love, 
For  know,  thou  art  the  wife  of  Jove  ; 
Then  learn  to  bear  thy  future  fame, 
When  earth's  wide  continent  shall  boat  tliv  nanx 


ODE  XXVIII, 
TO  LYDE. 

SAY;  what  shall  I  do  on  the  festival  day  . 
Of  Nepture  1  Come,  Lyde,  without  more  dp^aV' 
And  broach  the  good  creature,  inraulted  that  lies 
Cast  off  all  reserve,  and  be  merry  and  wise. 
The  evening  approaches,  you  see,  from  you  hill  ; 
And  yet,  as  if  Phcebus,  though  winged,  stood  stil 
You  dalh^  to  bring  us  a  cup  of  the  best, 
Condemn'd,  like  its  consul,  ignobly  to  rest. 

With  voices  alternate,  the  sea-potent  king. 
And  the  jNereids,  with  ringlets  of  azure,  we'll  sin<^. 
From  the  sweet-sounding  shell  thy  hand  shall  araise 
Latona's,  and  swift-darting  Cynthia's  praise. 
The  gay-smiling  goddess  of  love  and  delight. 
Who  rules  over  Cnidos,and  Cyclades  bright. 
And  guiding  her  sAvans  with  a  soft  silken  rein 
Revisits  her  Paphos,  shall  crown  the  glad  strain 
Then  to  the  good  Night,  while  bumpers  elate  u- 
We'll  sing  a  farewell,  and  a  decent  quietus. 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  1: 

ODE  XXIX. 

TO  MiECENAS. 
DESCENDED  from  an  ancient  line^ 

That  once  the  Tuscan  sceptre  sway'd. 
Haste  thee  to  meet  the  generous  wine. 
Whose  piercing  is  for  thee  delay'd  ; 
For  thee  the  fragrant  essence  flows, 
I'or  thee,  Maecenas,  breathes  the  blooming  rose: 
From  the  delights,  oh  !  break  away. 

Which  Tibur's  marshy  prospect  yields, 
\or  with  unceasing  joy  survey 
Fair -<Esula'3  declining  fields 
No  more  the  verdant  hills  admire 
'  >!'  Telegon,  who  kilFd  his  aged  sire. 

Instant  forsake  the  joyless  feast. 

Where  appetite  in  surfeit  dies. 
And  from  the  towered  structure  haste. 

That  proudly  threatens  to  the  skies  ; 
From  Rome  and  its  tumultuous  joys, 
Xi$  crowds,  and  smoke,  and  opulence,  and  naise; 

Where  health  preserving  plainness  dwells, 
Nor  sleeps  upon  the  Tyrian  dye. 

To  frugal  treats,  and  humble  cells, 
With  grateful  change  the  wealthy  fly. 

.Such  scenes  have  charm'dthe  pangs  of  care 
vnd  sraooth'd  the  clouded  forehead  of  despair. 

Andromeda's  conspicuous  sire 
Now  dart?  his  hidden  beams  from  far  : 

The  Lion  shows  his  maddening  fire, 
And  barks  fierce  Procyon's  raging  sta) . 

While  Phoebus,  with  revolving  ray, 
T^'-ings  back  the  burnings  of  the  thirsty  dny 


154         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Fainting  beneath  the  sweltering  heat, 

To  cooling  streams  and  breezy  shades 
The  shepherd  and  his  flocks  retreat, 

White  rustic  Sylvans  seek  the  glades, 
Silent  the  brook  its  borders  laves, 
Nor  curls  one  vagrant  breath  of  wind  the  waves- 

But  you  for  Rome's  imperial  state 

Attend  with  ever-watchful  care, 

Or,  for  the  world's  uncertain  fate 

Alarm'd,  with  ceaseless  terrors  fear ; 
Anxious  what  eastern  wars  impend, 
Ot  what  the  Scythians  in  their  pride  iutend, 

But  Jove,  in  goodness  ever  wise. 

Hath  hid,  in  clouds  of  depthless  night, 

All  that  in  future  prospect  lies, 
Beyond  the  ken  of  mortal  sight, 

And  laughs  to  see  vain  man  opprest 
With  idle  fears,  and  more  than  man  distrest. 

Then  wisely  form  the  present  hour  ; 

Enjoy  the  bliss  that  it  bestows ; 
The  rest  is  all  beyond  our  power, 

And  like  the  changeful  Tiber  flows. 
Who  now  beneath  his  banks  subsides. 
And  peaceful  to  his  native  ocean  glides  : 
But  when  descends  a  sudden  shower 

And  wild  provokes  his  silent  flood. 
The  mountains  hear  the  torrent  roar, 

And  echoes  shake  the  neighbouring  wqotIj 
Then  swollen  with  rage  he  sweeps  away 
Uprooted  trees,'herds,  dwellings  to  the  sea. 

Happy  the  man,  and  he  alone, 
\yhs)  m£i.ster  of  himself  can  say^ 


ODES,  BOOK  III.  ]op 

To-day  at  least  hath  been  my  own, 

For  I  have  clearly  liv'd  to-day  ; 
Then  let  to-morrow's  clouds  arise, 
•"'r  purer  suns  o'erspread  the  cheerful  skrei> 
iN'ot  Jove  himself  can  now  make  void 

The  joy,  that  wing'd  the  flying  hour ; 
The  certain  blessing  once  enjoyd, 

Is  safe  beyond  the  godhead's  power ; 
Nought  can  recall  the  acted  scene, 
What  hath  been,  spite  of  Jove  himself,  halh  beeii . 

But  Fortune,  ever-changing  dame, 

Indulges  her  malicious  joy. 
And  constant  plays  her  haughty  game, 

Proud  of  her  office  to  destroy  ; 
To-day  to  me  her  bounty  flows, 
And  now  to  others  she  the  bliss  bestow? 
I  can  applaud  her  while  she  stays  ; 

But  if  she  shake  her  rapid  wings, 
I  can  resign  with  careless  ease 

The  richest  gifts  her  favour  brings, 
Then  folded  lie  in  virtue's  arms, 
And  honest  poverty's  undower'd  charms. 

Though  the  mast  howl  beneath  the  winJ . 

I  make  no  mercenary  prayers, 
Nor  with  the  gods  a  bargain  bind 

With  future  vows,  and  streaming  tears. 
To  save  my  wealth  from  adding  more 
Ta  boundless  ocean  s  avaricious  store  : 
Then  in  my  little  barge  Fll  ride, 

Secure  amid  the  foamy  wave. 
Calm  will  I  stem  the  threatning  tide^ 

And  fearless  all  its  tumults  brave  i 


156  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

Even  then  perhaps  some  kinder  gale. 
While  the  twin  stars  appear,  shall  fill  ray  jovt' 
sail. 

ODE  XXX, 

TO  MELPOMENE. 

MORE  durable  than  brass,  the  franiC 
Which  here  I  consecrate  to  fame  ; 
Higher  than  pyramids  that  rise, 
With  royal  pride,  to  brave  the  skies  ; 
Nor  years,  though  numberless  the  train 
Nor  flight  of  seasons,  wasting  rain, 
Nor  winds,  that  loud  in  tempests  break,. 
Shall  e'er  its  firm  foundation  shake. 
Nor  shall  the  funeral  pyre  consume 
My  fame  ;  that  nobler  part  shall  bloom  ^ 
With  youth  unfading  shall  improve, 
While  to  th'  immortal  fane  of  Jove 
The  "Vestal  maids,  in  silent  state 
Ascending,  on  the  pontiflf  wait. 

With  rapid  course  and  deafening  wave? 
Where  Aufidus  impetuous  raves, 
/\.nd  where  a  poor,  enervate  stream 
From  banish'd  Daunus  takes  its  name, 
O'er  warlike  realms  who  fix'd  his  throne. 
Shall  Horace,  deathless  bard^  be  known, 
Who  first  attempted  to  inspire 
With  Grecian  sounds  the  Roman  lyre, 
"With  conscious  pride,  O  Muse  divine 
Assume  the  honours  justly  thine  ; 
With  laurel  wreathsmy  head  surround'; 
Such  as  the  god  of  verse  have  crown "d. 


ODES. 

BOOK  IV. 
ODE  I. 

TO  \t:nus. 

AGAIN  new  tumults  fire  my  breast  ? 
Ah  spare  ine.  Venus,  let  thy  suppliant  rest. 

I  am  no  more,  alas  !  the  swain 
I  was  in  Cynara's  indulgent  reign. 

Fierce  mother  of  the  Loves,  no  more 
Attempt  to  bend  me  to  thy  charming  power, 

Harden'd  with  age  ;  but  swift  repair 
Where  youth  invokes  thee  with  the  soothing  prayei", 

Would  you  inflame,  with  young  desire, 
A  bosom  worthy  of  thy  purest  fire, 

To  Paulus  guide,  a  welcome  guest, 
Thy  purple  swans,  and  revel  in  his  breast. 

Of  noble  birth,  and  graceful  made. 
Nor  silent  when  affliction  claims  his  aid, 

He,  with  a  hundred  conquering  arts, 
Shall  wave  thy  banners  wide  o'er  female  hearts. 

When  more  successful  he  shall  prove, 
And  laugh  at  rivals,  who  with  gifts  make  love-. 

Thou  in  a  citron  dome  shalt  stand, 
Forra'd  by  the  sculotoi 's  aniirmting  han<>. 


laS         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

There'shall  th'  abundant  incense  flame, 
And  thou  transported  quaff  the  rising  steam 

There  shall  the  power  of  music  join, 
And  raise  the  eong  with  harmony  divine  ;  '' 

There  shall  the  youths  and  virgins  pay 
To  thee  their  grateful  offerings  twice  a-day. 

Like  Salian  priests  the  dance  shall  lead,  ^ 

And  many  a  mazy  measure  round  thee  tread. 

For  me,  alas  !  those  joys  are  o'er, 
For  me  the  vernal  garland  blooms  no  mote  ; 

No  more  the  feats  of  wine  I  prove. 
Nor  the  delusive  hopes  of  mutal  love. 

Yet  why,  ah!  fair-one,  still  too  dear, 
Steals  down  my  cheek  the  involuntary  tear  ? 

Or  why  thus  falter  o'er  my  tongue 
The  words,  which  once  harmonious  pour'd  along  ? 

Swift  through  the  fields,  and  flowing  streams, 
1  folliow  thee  in  visionary  dreams  , 

Now,  now  I  seize,  I  clasp  thy  charms, 
And  now  you  bnrst,  ah  cruel  !  from  my  arms. 


ODE  II. 
TO  ANTONIUS  lULUS. 

1I£.  who  to  Pindar's  height  attempts  to  rise.,, 
iiikc  Icarus,  witli  waxen  pinions  tries  ^    , 

ilis  pathless  way,  and  from  the  venturous  theme 
Trailing  shall  leave  to  azure  seas  his  name. 

As  when  a  river^  swollen  by  sudden  sliowers, 
O'er  its  known  banks  from  some  steep  mountain 

pours, 
So  in  profound,  unmeasurable  song 
The  deep-mouth'd  Pindar,  foaming,  pours  along.  • 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  159- 

Well  he  deserves  Apollo's  laurel'd  crewn, 
Whether  new  words  he  rolls  enraptur'd  down 
Impetuous  through  the  Dithyrambic  strains  ; 
Free  from  all  laws,  but  what  himself  ordains ; 

Whether  in  lofty  tone  sublime  he  sings 
The  immortal  gods,  or  god-descended  kings, 
•Vith  death  deserv'd  who  smote  the  Centaurs  dire/ 
Vnd  quench'd  the  fierce  Chimsera's  brea-h  of  fire  ; 

Or  whom  th'  Olympic  palm,  celestial  prize ! 
Victorious  crowns,  and  raises  to  the  skies, 
Wrestler  or  steed — whh  honours,  that  outlive 
The  mortal  fame  which  thousand  statues  give  ; 

Or  mourns  soiue  hapless  youth  in  plaintive  lav. 
From  his  fond,  weeping  bride,  ah  !  torn  away  ; 
His  manners  pure,  his  courage,  and  his  name, 
>natch'd  from  the  grave,  he  vindicates  to  fame. 

Thus,   when  the  Theban  swan  attempts  the 
skies, 
V  nobler  gale  of  rapture  bids  him  rise  ; 
iiut  like  a  bee,  which  through  the  bre.  zy  groves 
With  feeble  wing  and  idle  murmurs  roves. 

Sits  on  the  bloom,  and  with  unceasing  toil 
^om  thyme   sweet-breathing  culls  his  flowery 
spoil ; 

)  I,  weak  bard  !  round  Tibur's  lucid  spring, 
'  )i  humbler  strain  laborious  verses  sing. 

"Tis  thine  with  deeper  hand  to  strike  the  lyre, 

hen  Caesar  shall  his  raptur'd  bard  inspire, 

;  d  crown'd  with  laurel,  well-earn'd  meed  of  wa;. 

.ig  the  fierce  Gaul  at  his  triumphant  car  ; 

Tiian  wliom  the  gods  ne'er  gave,  or  bounteouti 
Fate, 
■     human  kind  a  gift  ifiOre  good  or  great, 


m  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Nor  from  the  treasures  shall  again  unfold, 
Though  time  roll  backward  to  his  ancient  golik 

Be  thine  the  festal  days,  the  city's  joys, 
The  Forum  silenc'd  from  litigious  noise, 
The  public  games  for  Caesar  safe  restor'd, 
A  blessing  oft  with  pious  vows  implor'd. 

Then,   if  my  voice   can   reach   the   glorious 
theme ; 
Then  will  I  sing,  amid  the  loud  acclaun — 
'  Hail,  brightest  sun  ;  in  Rome's  fair  annals  sliiae 
Ceesar  returns — eternal  praise  be  thine.'' 

As  the  procession  awful  moves  along, 
Let  shouts  of  truimph  fill  our  joyful  song  ; 
Repeated  shouts  of  triumph  Rome  shall  raise. 
And  to  the  bounteous  gods  our  altars  blaze. 

Of  thy  fair  herds  twice  ten  shall  grateful  bleed, 
While  I  with  pious  care,  one  steerling  feed  : 
Wean'd  from  the  dam,  o'er  pastures   large  iif 

roves, 
And  for  my  vows  his  rising  youth  he  proves  : 

His  horns  like  Luna's  bending  fires  appear, 
When  the  third  night  she  rises  to  her  sphere  : 
Vnd  yellow  all  the  rest,  one  spot  there  glows 
Fall  in  his  front,  and  bright  as  winter  snows. 


ODE  HL 
TO  MELPOMENE. 

HE,  on  whose  natal  hour  the  queen 
Of  verse  hath  smil'd,  shall  never  grace 

The  Isthmian  gauntlet,  or  be  seen 
First  in  the  fam'd  Olympic  race  : 

lis  shall  not  after  toils  of  war. 


i 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  to-: 

And  taming  haughty  monarchs'  pride, 
With  laurePd  brows  conspicuous  far, 

To  Jove's  Tarpeian  temple  ride  : 
But  him,  the  streams  which  warbHng  flow 

Rich  Tiber's  fertile  vales  along, 
And  shady  groves,  his  haunts,  shall  kno^v 

The  master  of ih'  iEolian  song. 
The  sons  oi'  Rome,  majestic  Rome  ! 

Have  placed  me  in  the  poet's  quire, 
\nd  Envy,  now  or  dead  or  dumb, 

Forbears  to  blame  what  they  admire. 
Goddess  of  the  sweet-sounding  lute. 

Which  thy  harmonious  touch  obeys. 
Who  canst  the  finny  race,  though  mute. 

To  cygnet's  dying  accents  raise, 
Thy  gift  it  is,  that  nil,  with  ease, 

Me  prince  of  Roman  lyrics  own  ; 
^'^hat,  while  I  live,  my  numbers  please, 

Jf  pleasing,  is  thy  gift  alone. 

ODE  IV, 

THE  PRAISES  OF  DRUSUS. 

VS  the  majestic  bird  of  towering  kind, 
Who  bears  the  thunder  through  th"  ethereai 
space 
(To  whom  the  monarch  of  the  gods  assign'*.! 
Dominion  o'er  the  vagrant,  feather'd  race, 
'1:3  faith  approved,  when  to  the  distant  skies 
rora  Ida's  top  he  bore  the  Phrygian  prize) 

.Sprung  from  his  nest,  by  sprightly  youth  ir- 
spir'd, 
Fledg'd,  and  exulting  in  his  native  mi^hcu 
Vol.  I.  14 


16-2         THE  WORKS  OP  HORACE, 

Novice  to  toils;  but  as  the  clouds  retir'd, 
And  gentler  gales  provok'd  a  bolder  flight, 
On  sailing  wings  through  yielding  air  explor'.' 
Unwonted  paths,  and  panted  while  he  soai  'd 

Anon  to  ravage  in  the  fleecy  fold, 

The  glowing  ardour  of  his  youthful  heart 
Pour'd  the  beak'dfoe  ;  now  more  maturely  bolu 
With  tallons  fierce  precipitant  to  dart 
On  dragons  fell,  reluctant  in  the  fray  ; 
iSucb  is  his  thirst  for  battle,  and  for  prey  . 

Or  as  a  lion  through  the  forest  stalks, 

Wean'd  by  his  tawny  dam  from  milky  food  , 
A  goat  descries  hira  from  her  flowery  walks, 
First  doom'd  to  stain  his  youthful  jaws  witL 
blood  : 
So  Drusus  look'd  tremendous  to  his  foes, 
Beneath  the  frozen  height  cf  Alpine  snows. 
The  Rhoetian  bands  beheld  him  such  in  war  : 

Those  daring  bands,  who  with  triumphant  joy 
Were  wont  to  spread  their  baneful  terrors  fai 
Tam'd  by  the  conduct  of  the  martial  boy, 
Felt  what  true  courage  could  achieve,  when  led 
r>y  bright  example,  and  by  virtue  bred  ; 
Felt  how  Augustus  with  paternal  mind 

Fir'd  the  young  Noroes  to  heroic  deeds; 
The  brave  and  good  are  copies  of  their  kind  . 
In  steers  laborious,  and  in  generous  steeds 
We  trace  their  sires  :  nor  can  the  bird  of  Jovp 
Intrepid,  fierce,  beget  th'  unwarlike  dove; 
Yet  saage  instructions,  to  refine  the  soul 

And  raise  the  genius,  wondrous  aid  impair. 
Conveying,  inward  as  they  purely  roll, 
Strength  to  th?  mind,  and  visrouf'to  tlie  heavi 


al 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  163 

n "hen  morals  fail,  the  stains  of  vice  ulogracc 
The  fairest  honours,  and  the  noblest  race. 

How  much  the  grandeur  of  thy  rising  state 
Owes  to  the  Neroes,  Rome  imperial,  say  ; 
Witness  Metaurus,  and  the  dismal  fate 
Of  vnaquish'd  Asdrubal,  and  that  glad  dav. 
Which  first  auspicious,  as  the  darkness  fled. 
'  «er  Latium's  face  a  tide  of  glory  shed  ; 

Resistless  in  his  rage,  before  that  day 
The  Carthoiginian  with  vindictive  ire 
Through  our  fair  cities  urg"d  his  cruel  way. 
As  through  the  pitchy  pines  destructive  fire 
Devours  its  coarse  ;  or  as  when  Eurus  raves, 
And  howling  rides  the  mad  Sicilian  Agaves. 

The  Roman  youth,  improving  by'tlicir  toils, 

With  better  fate  now  wield  the  vengeful  sword. 
And  see  tliose  temples,which  were  once  the  spoils 
Of  Tyrian  rapine,  to  their  gods  restored ; 
When  faithless  Hannibal  at  length  e:j:pres3'd 
The  boding  sorrows  of  his  anxious  breast : 

t,.   '■'  Like  stags,  of  coward  kind,  the  destin'dprey 

Of  ravening  wolves,  we  unprovok'd  defy 

Those,  whom  to  baffle  is  our  fairesl  play. 

The  richest  triumph  we  can  boast,  to  fly. 

K'or  mark  that  race,  which  to  the  Latian  shore 

rheirgods,  their  sons,  their  sires,  intrepid  bore. 

'•  That    race,    long    tost   upon   the   Tuscan 

waves, 
Are  like  an  oak  upon  the  woody  top 
Of  shaded  Algidus,  embrown'd  with  leaves, 
Which,  as  keen  axes  its  green  honours  lop^ 
Through  wounds,  through  losses  no  decay  can  f^el, 
Collecting  strength  and  spirit  from  the  steel. 


:H  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

'•'Not  Hydi-a  stronger,  when  dismember'd.  ro?c 

Against  Alcmena's  much-enduring  son, 
Grieving  to  find,  from  his  repeated  blows, 
The  foe  redoubled,  and  his  toil  begun  ; 
IVor  Colchis  teem"d,  nor  Echiouian  Thebes 
A.  feller  monster  from  their  bursting  glebes. 

'•  In  ocean  plunge  them,  they  emerge  more  bright 

At  arms  oppose  them  in  the  dusty  field, 
With  routed  squadrons  they  renew  the  fight. 
And  force  your  yet  unbroken  troops  to  yield. 
And  battles  wage,  to  be  the  future  boast 
Of  their  proud  consorts  o'er  our  vanquis'd  host. 

'^  Tq  lofty  Carthage  I  no  more  shall  send 

Vaunts  of  my  deeds,  and  heralds  of  my  fame  . 
My  boundless  hopes,  alas  Ijare  at  an  end. 
With  all  the  flowing  fortune  of  our  name  : 
Hiose  boundless  hopes,  that  flowing  fortune,  all 
Are  dash'd,  and  buried  in  my  brother's  fall.'' 

The  Claudian  race,  those  favourites  of  the  sliie? 

No  toil  shall  damp,  no  fortitude  withstanJj; 
Superior  they  to  difficulties  rise. 

Whom  Jove  protects  with  an  indulgent  hand 
Vhom  cautious  cares,  preventing"'wiles  afar, 
-j'uide  through  the  perils  of  tumultuous  war 


ODE  V. 
TO  AUGUSTUS. 

PROPITIOUS  to  the  sons  of  Earth 
(Best  guardian  of  the  Roman  state) 

The  heavenly  powers  beheld  thy  birth, 
And  form'd  thee  glorious,  good  and  great 


Odes,  book  iv.  ig: 

Rome  find  her  holy  fathers  cry,  Thy  sfay 
Was  prorais'd  short,  ah  !  wherefore  this  (Jelay  ■'. 

Come  then,  auspicious  prince,  and  bring 

To  thy  long  gloomy  country,  light, 
For  in  thy  cguntenance  the  spring 
Shines  forth  to  cheer  thy  people's  sight  : 
Then  hasten  thy  return  :  for,  thou  away,, 
-Nor  lustre  has  the  sun,  nor  joy  the  day. 

Asa  fond  mother  views  with  fear 
The  terrors  of  the  rolling  main, 
While  envious  winds,  beyond  his  year^ 
From  his  lov'd  home  her  son  detain  ; 
i'u  the  good  gods  with  fervent  prayer  she  cries; 
And  catches  every  omen  as  it  flies  ; 

Then  anxious  listens  to  the  roar 

Of  winds,  that  loudly  sweep  the  sky  ; 

.Nor,  fearful,  from  the  winding  shore 

Can  ever  turn  her  longing  eye  : 

c^iiiit  with  as  faithful  and  as  fond  desires. 

impatient  Rome  her  absent  lord  requires-. 

Safe  by  thy  cares  her  oxen  graze, 

And  yellow  Ceres  clothes  her  fields  ; 
The  sailor  ploughs  the  peaceful  seas, 
And  Earth  her  richer  abundance  yields  ; 
While,  nobly  conscious  of  unsullied  fame, 
Fair  honour  dreads  th'  imputed  sense  of  blame_. 


i 


By  thee  our  wedded  dames  are  pure 
From  foul  adultery's  embrace ; 

The  conscious  father  views  secure 
His  own  resemblance  in  his  race  . 


K^  THE  WORKS  OF  PIORACE. 

Thy  chaste  example  quells  the  spotted  deed- 
And  to  the  guilt  thy  punishments  succeed. 

Who  shall  the  faithless  Parthian  dread, 

The  freezing  armies  of  the  north, 
The  enormous  youth,  to  battle  bred, 
Whom  horrid  Germany  brings  forth  ? 
Who  shall  regard  the  war  of  cruel  Spain. 
If  Cffisar  live  secure,  if  Caesar  reign  1 

Safe  in  his  vineyard  toils  the  hind, 

AVeds  to  the  widow'd  elm  his  vino. 
Till  the  sun  sets  his  hill  behind, 
Then  hastens  joyful  to  his  wine, 
\nd  in  his  gayer  hours  of  mirth  implores 
Thy  godhead  to  protect  and  bless  his  stores 

To  thee  he  chants  the  sacred  song, 
To  thee  the  rich  libation  pours  ; 
Thee,  plac'd  his  household  gods  among. 
With  solemn,  daily  prayer  adores  ; 
^0  Castor  and  great  Hercules  of  old 
Were  with  her  gods  by  grateful  Greece  enrol 

Gracious  and  good,  beneath  thy  reign 

May  Rome  her  happy  hours  employ. 
And  grateful  hail  thy  just  domain 
With  pious  hymns  and  festal  joy  : 
Thus,  with  the  rising  sun  we  sober  pray, 
Thus  in  our  wine  beneath  his  setting  ray. 


[  The  SIXTH  ODE  idll  be  found  in  '•  The  5^ 
Poem  ;"  see  thefrst  ''  Chorus  of  Youtliso.nd  V?" 
s:ins,''  and  the  succeeding  ''  Hymn  to  Apollo.''} 


-ir 


ODES;  BOOK  IV  107- 

ODE  VII. 

TO  TARQUATUS. 

THE  snoTv  dissolve  s,  the  field  its  verdure  spieaL'  - 
The  trees  high  wave  in  air  their  leafy  heads  ; 
Earth  feels  the  change  ;  the  rivers  calm  subside 
And  smooth  along  their  banks  decreasing  glide  . 
The  elder  Grace,  with  her  fair  sister-train, 
In  naked  beauty  dances  o'er  the  plain. 
The  circling  hours,  that  swiftly  wing  their  way. 
And  in  their  flight  consume  the  smiling  day  ; 
Those  circling  hours,  and  all  the  various  year. 
Convince  us,  nothing  is  immortal  here. 

In  vernal  gales  cold  winter  melts  away  ; 
Soon  wastes  the  spring insummer's  burning  ray 
Vet  summer  dies  in  autumn's  friutful  reign, 
A.nd  slow-pac'd  winter  soon  returns  again. 
The  moon  renews  her  orb  with  growing  light . 
But  when  we  sink  into  the  depths  of  night, 
Where  all  the  good,  the  rich,  the  brave  are  laid, 
"'•u-  best  remains  are  ashes  and  a  shade. 

Who  knows  that  heaven,  with  ever-bounteo'w 
power, 

.ail  add  to-morrow  to  the  present  hour  ? 
Tiie  wealth  you  give  to  pleasure  and  delight. 
Far  from  thy  ravening  heir  shall  speed  its  fligaT 
But  soon  as  Minos,  throu'd  in  awful  state, 
-ii;all  o'er  tr.ee  speak  the  solemn  words  of  Fatv 
Nor  virtue,  birth,  nor  eloquence  divine, 
■^lail  bid  the  grave  its  destin'd  prey  resign  • 


168  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE,  ] 

Nor  chaste  Diana  from  infernal  night 
, Could  bring  her  modest  favourite  back  to  ligh 
And  hell-descending  Theseus  strove  in  vain 
To  bre'ak  his  amorous  friend's  Lethsean  chain. 


ODE  VHT. 
TO  CENSORINUS. 

WITH  liberal  heart  to  every  friend 
\  bowl  or  caldron  would  I  send  ; 
Or  tripods,  which  the  Grecians  gave,. 
As  rich  rewards  to  heroes  brave  ; 
iVor  should  the  meanest  gift  be  thine.. 
If  the  rich  works  of  art  were  mine. 
By  Sdopas  or  Parrhasius  wrought, 
With  animating  skill  who  taught 
The  shapeless  stone  with  life  to  glow, 
Or  bad  the  breathing  colours  flow, 
To  imitate,  in  every  line. 
The  form  or  human  or  divine. 

But  I  nor  boast  the  curious  store^ 
And  you  nor  want,  nor  wish  for  more  : 
'Tis  yours  the  joys  of  verse  to  know, 
Such  joys  as  Horace  can  bestow, 
While  I  can  vouch  my  present's  wortli 
And  call  it3  every  virtue  forth. 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  189 

Nor  coluiuiis,  which  the  public  raise, 
Engrav'd  with  monumental  praise, 
By  which  the  breath  of  life  returns 
To  heroes  sleeping  in  their  urns  ; 
Nor  Hannibal,  when  swift  he  fled. 
His  threats  retorted  on  his  head  ; 
Nor  impious  Carthage  wrapt  in  flame. 
From  whence  great  Scipio  gain'd  a  name, 
Such  glories  round  him  could  diffuse 
As  the  Calabrian  poet's  muse  ; 
And  should  the  bard  his  aid  deny, 
Thy  worth  shall  unrewarded  die. 

Had  envious  silence  left  unsung 
The  child  from  Mars  and  Ilia  sprung, 
How  had  we  known  the  hero's  fame, 
From  whom  the  Roman  empire  came  ? 
The  poet's  favour,  voice,  and  lays, 
Could  yEacus  from  darkness  raise, 
Snatch'd  from  the  Stygian  gulfs  of  hell. 
Among  the  blissful  isles  to  dwell. 

The  Muse  forbids  the  brave  to  die^ 
The  Muse  enthrones  him  in  the  sky  . 
Alcides,  thus,  in  heaven  is  plac'd, 
And  shares  with  Jove  th'  immortal  f«ast ; 
Thus  the  twin-stars  have  power  to  save 
The  shattered  vessel  from  the  wave. 
And  vine-crown'd  Bacchus  with  success 
His  jovial  Totaries  can  bless. 

\"er.  L  15 


irO         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


ODE  IX. 

TO  LOLLIUS. 

WHILE  with  the  Grecian  bards  I  vie. 
And  raptur'd  tune  the  social  string; 
Think  not  the  song  shall  ever  die, 
Which  with  no  vulgar  art  I  sing, 
J'hough  born  whei-e  Aufid  rolls  his  sounding  strean 
In  lands  far  distant  from  poetic  fame. 

What  though  the  Muse  her  Homer  thrones 

High  above  all  th'  immortal  choir, 
Nor  Pindar's  rapture  she  disowns, 
Nor  hides  the  plaintive  Ceean  lyre  : 
Vlcaeus  strikes  the  tyrant's  soul  with  dread. 
Nor  yet  is  grave  Stesichorus  unread. 

Whatever  old  Anacreon  sung, 

However  tender  was  the  lay. 
In  spite  of  Time  is  ever  young, 
Nor  Sappho's  amorous  flames  decay  ; 
Her  living  songs  preserve  their  charming  art; 
Her  love  still  breathes  the  passions  of  her  heaii. 

Helen  was  not  the  only  fair, 

By  an  unhappy  passion  fir'd, 
Who  the  lewd  ringlets  of  the  liair 
Of  an  adulterous  beau  admir'd  ; 
« 'ourt  arts,  gold  lace,  and  equipage  have  charnis 
To  tempt  weak  woman  to  a  stranger's  arms. 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  171 

N«r  first  from  Teucer's  vengeful  bow 

The  feather'd  death  unerring  flew, 
Nor  was  the  Greek  the  dingle  for 
Whose  rage  ill-fated  Ilion  knew 
rircece  had  with  heroes  filFd  th'  embattled  plain, 
XVorthy  the  Muse  in  her  sublimest  strain , 

Nor  Hector  first  transported  heard 

With  fierce  delight  the  war's  alarms^ 
Nor  brave  Deiphobus  appear'd 
Amid  the  tentend  field  in  arms, 
With  glorious  ardour  prodigal  of  life. 
To  guard  a  darling  son  and  faithful  wife. 

Before  great  Agamemnon  reign'd, 

Reign'd  kings  as  great  as  he,  and  brave. 
Whose  huge  ambition's  nowcontain'd 
In  the  sroall  compass  of  a  grave  ; 
In  endless  night  they  sleep,  unwept,  unknown, 
No  bard  had  they  to  make  all  time  their  own. 

In  earth  if  it  forgotten  lies. 

What  is  the  valour  of  the  brave  ? 
What  difference,  when  the  coward  dies. 
And  sinks  in  silence  to  his  grave  ? 
Nor,  LoUius,  will  I  not  thy  praise  proclaim, 
But  from  oblivion  vindicate  thy  fame. 

Nor  shall  its  livid  power  conceal 

Thy  toils — how  glorious  to  the  state  ! 
How  constant  to  the  public  weal 
Through  all  the  doubtful  turns  of  fate  ! 
Thy  steady  soul,  by  long  experience  found 
Er^ct  alike,  when  Fortune  smil'd  or  frown'J. 


172         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Villains,  in  public  rapine  bold, 

Lollius,  the  just  aveng«r,  dread, 
Who  never  by  the  charms  of  gold, 
Shining  seducer,  was  misled  : 
Beyond  thy  year  such  virtue  shall  extend, 
And  death  alone  thy  consulate  shall  end. 

Perpetual  magistrate  is  he, 

Who  keeps  strict  Justice  full  in  sight ; 
With  scorn  rejects  th'  offender's  fee, 
Nor  weighs  convenience  against  right ; 
Who  bids  the  crowd  at  awful  distance  gaze, 
And  Virtue's  arms  victoriously  displays. 

Not  he,  of  wealth  immense  possest. 

Tasteless  who  piles  his  massy  gold, 
Among  the  number  of  the  blest 
Should  have  his  glorious  name  enroli'd  ; 
He  better  claims  the  glorious  n.ime,  who  knows 
With  wisdom  to  enjoy  what  heaven  bestows  ; 

Who  knows  the  wrongs  of  want  to  bear. 

Even  in  its  lowest,  last  extreme 
Yet  can  with  conscious  virtue  fear, 

Far  worse  than  death,  a  deed  of  shame  ,* 
Undaunted,  for  his  country  or  his  friend. 
To  sacrifice  his  life— O  glorious  cn«l  ^ 


ODES;  BOOK  IV.  j; 

ODE  X. 

TO  LIGURINUS. 

■    O  CRUEL  still,  and  vain  of  beauty's  chartnt-. 
When  wintry  age  thy  insolence  disarms  ; 
When  fall  those  locks  that  on  thy  shoulders  play, 
And  youth's  gay  roses  on  thy  cheeks  decay  ; 
When  that  smooth  face  shall  manhood's  roushnes 


And  in  your  glass  another  form  appear  ; 
Ah  why,  you'll  say,  do  I  now  vainly  burn, 
Or  with  my  wishes  not  my  youth  return  7 


ODE  XI. 

TO  PHYLLIS. 

PHYLLIS,  I  have  a  cask  of  wine 
3Iellow'd  by  summers  more  than  nine  ; 
With  living  wreaths  to  crown  our  heads 
The  parsley's  vivid  verdure  spreads  ; 
To  bind  your  hair  the  ivy  twines, 
With  plate  my  cheerful  sideboard  shines ; 
With  vervain  chaste  an  altar  bound, 
IVow  thirsts  for  blood  ;  the  victim's  crown'd. 


174  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

All  hands  employ'd ;  with  busy  haste 
My  boys  and  girls  prepare  our  feast ; 
Trembling  the  pointed  flames  arise, 
The  smoke  rolls  upward  to  the  skies. 
But  why  this  busy,  festal  care  ? 
This  invitation  to  my  fair  ? 
This  day  the  smiling  month  divides, 
O'er  which  the  sea-born  queen  preside?  : 
Sacred  to  me,  and  due  to  mirth, 
As  the  glad  hour  that  gave  me  birth  ; 
For,  when  this  happy  morn  appears, 
Maecenas  counts  a  length  of  years 
To  roll  in  bright  succ  :ssIon  round, 
With  every  joy  and  blessing  crown'd. 

Gay  Telephus  exults  above 
The  humble  fortunes  of  thy  love  ; 
A  rich  and  buxom  maid  detains 
His  captive  heart  in  willing  chains. 

The  youth  destroyed  by  heavenly  fire 
Forbids  ambition  to  aspire  ; 
And  Pegasus,  who  scorn'd  to  bear 
His  earth-born  rider  through  the  air, 
A  dread  example  hath  supplied 
To  check  tlie  growth  of  human  pride, 
And  caution  my  presumtous  fair 
To  grasp  at  things  within  her  sphere. 

Come  then,  my  latest  love  (for  I 
Shall  never  for  another  die,) 
Come  learn  with  me  to  newer  lays 
Thy  voice  of  harmony  to  raise. 
The  soothing  song  and  charming  air 
Shall  lessen  every  gloomy  care. 


ODES,  EOOK  IV.  175 

ODE  XII. 
TO  VIRGIL. 
COMPANIONS  of  the  Spring,  the  Thracian  winds 
With  kindly  breath  now  drive   the  bark  from 
.shore ; 
No  frost,  with  hoary  hand,  the  meadow  binds, 
Nor  swoln  with  winter  snow  tlie  torrents  roar. 

The  swallow,  hapless  bird !  now  builds  her  nest, 
And  in  complaining  notes  begins  to  sing, 

That,  with  revenge  too  cruelly  possest. 
Impious  she  punish'd  an  incestuous  king. 

Stretched  on  the  springing  grass  the  shepherd  swain 

His  reedy  pipe  with  rural  music  fills  ; 
The  god,  who  guards  hiiMock,  approves  the  strain 
The  god,  who  loves  Arcadia's  gloomy  hills. 
Virgil,  'tis  thine  with  noble  youths  to  feast; 

Yet.  since  the  thirsty  season  calls  for  wine^ 
Would  you  a  cup  of  generous  Bacchus  taste, 

Bring  you  the  odours,  and  a  cask  is  thine. 
Thy  little  box  of  spikenard  shall  produce 

A  mighty  cask,  that  in  the  cellar  lies  ; 
Big  with  large  hopes  shall  flow  th'  inspiring  juice 

Powerful  to  sooth  our  griefs,  and  raise  our  joys. 
If  pleasures  such  as  these  can  charm  thy  soul, 

Bring  the  glad  merchandise,  with  sweets  replete  ; 
Xor  empty-handed  shall  you  touch  the  bowl, 

Nor  do  I  mean  like  wealthy  folk  to  treat. 
Think  on  the  gloomy  pile's  funereal  flames. 

And  be  no  more  with  soxdid  lucre  blind  ; 
Mix  a  short  folly  with  thy  labour'd  schemes  ; 

Tis  joyous  folly,  that  unbends  the  mind. 


17«         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XIII. 


TO  LYCE. 

THE  gods,  the  gods  have  heard  ray  prayer 
See,  Lyce,  see  that  hoary  hair, 
Yet  you  a  toast  would  shine  : 

You  impudently  drink  and  joke. 

And  with  a  broken  voice  provoke 
Desires  no  longer  thine. 

Cupid,  who  joys  in  dimple  sleek. 
Now  lies  in  blooming  Chia's  cheek, 

Who  tunes  the  mehing  lay  ; 
From  blasted  oaks  the  wanton  flies, 
Scar'd'atjthy  wrinkles,  haggard  eyes, 

And  herad  snow'd  o'er  with  gray. 

Nor  glowing  purple,  nor  the  blaze 
Of  jewels,  can  restore  the  days. 

To  thee  those  days  of  glory, 
AVhich,  wafted  on  the  wings  of  time, 
Even  from  thy  birth  to  beauty's  prime. 

Recorded  stand  in  story. 

Ah  !  whither  is  thy  Venus  fled  ? 

That  bloom  by  nature's  cunning  spread  1 

That  every  graceful  art  ? 
Of  her,  of  her,  what  now  remains. 
Who  breath'd  the  loves,  who  charm'd  the  swai 

And  snatch'd  me  from  my  heart  ? 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  177 

Once  happy  maid  !  in  pleasing  guiles 
\Who  vied  wjthCynarain  smiles, 
<        Ah  !  tragical  survival  I 
She  glorious  died  in  beauty's  bloom, 
While  cruel  Fate  defers  thy  doom 
To  be  the  raven's  rival. 

That  youths,  in  fervent  wishes  bold, 
Kot  without  laughter  may  behold 

A  torch,  whose  early  fire 
,  Could  every  breast  with  love  iniflame.. 
Now  faintly  spread  a  sickly  gleani; 

And  in  a  smoke  expire. 


17i         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  XIV. 

TO  AUGUSTUS. 

HOW  shall  our  holy  senate's  care, 
Or  Rome  with  grateful  joy  prepare 
Thy  monumental  honours;  big  with  fame, 
And  in  her  festal  annals  eternize  thy  name  ? 

O  thou,  where  Sol  with  varied  rays 
The  habitable  globe  surveys, 
Greatest  of  princes,  whose  vindictive  war 
First  broke  th'  unconquer'd  Gaul  to  thy  triumphal 
car  ! 

For  when  thy  legions  Drusus  led, 

How  swift  the  rapid  Breuni  fled  ! 

The  rough  Genauni  fell,  and,  rais'd  in  vain 

Tremendous  on  the  Alps,  twice  overwhelmed  the 

plain 

Their  haughty  towers,     tt/'ith  just  success 

While  the  good  gods  thy  battle  bless, 

Our  elder  Nero  smote  with  deep  dismay 

The  Rhaetians  huge  of  bulk,  and  broke  tlieir  firm 

array. 

Conspicuous  in  the  martial  strife. 

And  nobly  prodigal  of  life, 

With  what  prodigious  ruins  he  oppress'd 

For  glorious  liberty  the  death-devoted  breast ! 

As  when  the  Pleiads  rend  the  skies 

In  mystic  dance,  the  winds  arise, 

And  work  the  e^eas  untam'd  ;  such  was  the  force, 

With  whic  h  through  spreading  fires  he  spurr'd  his 

foaming  horse. 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  17§ 

So  branching  Aufidus,  who  laves' 
The  Daunian  realms,  fierce  rolls  his  wave», 
When  to  the  golden  labours  of  the  swain 
3[e  meditates  his  wrath,  and  deluges  the  plain, 

As  Claudius,  with  impetuous  might, 
1      Broke  through  the  iron  ranks  of  fight ; 
;  From  front  to  rear  the  bloodless  victor  sped, 
«low'd  down   th'    embattled    field,  and  wide  tli« 
slaughter  spread. 

Thine  were  his  troops,  his  counsels  thine, 
And  all  his  guardian  powers  divine  : 
For,  since  the  day  when  Alexandria's  port 
>pen'd,  in  suppliahce  low,  her  desolated  court ; 

When  thrice  five  times  the  circling  sun 
His  annual  course  of  light  had  run  ; 
Fortune  by  this  success  hathcrown'd  thy  nanie, 
enfirm'd  thy  glories  past,  and  rais'd  thy  future 
fame. 
Dread  guardian  of  th'  imperial  state. 
Whose  presence  rules  thy  country's  fate. 
On  whom  theMedes  with  awful  wonder  gaze, 
IThora  unhous'd  Scythians  fear,  unconquer'd  Spain 
obeys  : 
The  Nile,  who  hides  bis  sevenfold  source, 
The  Tigris,  headlong  in  his  course. 
The  Danube,  and  the  ocean  wild  that  roars 
^ith  monster-bearing  waves  round  Britain's  rocky 
shores  : 
The  fearless  Gaul  thy  name  reveres. 
Thy  voice  the  rough  Iberian  hears, 
With  arms  composed  the  fierce  Sicambrians  yield. 
yt  view,  with  dear  delight,  the  carnage  of  the  field. 


180  THE  WORKS  OE  HORACE 

ODE  XV. 

TO  AUGUSTUS. 

I  WOULD  have  sung  of  battles  dire 

And  mighty  cities  overthrown, 
When  Phoebus  smote  me  with  his  lyre. 
And  warned  me  with  an  angry  tone, 
Not  to  unfold  my  little  sail,  or  brave 
The  boundless  terrors  of  the  Tyrrhene  wave. 

Yet  will  1  sing  thy  peaceful  reign. 

Which  crowns  with  fruits  our  happy  field 
And,  rent  from  Parthia's  haughty  fane, 
To  Roman  Jove  his  eagles  yields  ; 
Augustus  bids  the  rage  of  war  to  cease, 
And  shuts  up  Janus  in  eternal  peace. 

Restrained  by  arts  of  ancient  fame, 

Wild  License  walks  at  large  no  more. 
Those  arts,  by  which  the  Latian  name, 
The  Roman  strength,  th'  imperial  pow"i , 
With  awful  majesty  unbounded  spread 
To  rising  Phoebus  from  his  western  bed. 

While  watchful  Caesar  guards  our  age, 

Nor  civil  wrath,  nor  loud  alarms 
Of  foreign  tumults,  nor  the  rage 
That  joys  to  forge  destructive  arms, 
And  ruin'd  cities  fills  with  hostile  woes, 
Shall  e'er  disturb,  O  Rome,  thy  safe  repose 


I 


ODES,  BOOK  IV.  ISl 

NfttioQg,  who  quaff  the  rapid  stream, 

Where  deep  the  Danube  rolls  his  ware  ; 
The  Parthians,  of  perfidious  fame, 
The  Getae  fierce,  and  Seres  brave, 
ley  on  Tanais  who  wide  extend, 
:o  the  Julian  laws  reluctant  bend. 

Our  wives  and  children  share  our  joy, 
With  Bacchus'  jovial  blessings  gay  ; 

Thus  we  the  festal  hours  employ, 
I     Thus  grateful  hail  the  busy  day  ; 
lit  first  with  solemn  rites  the  gods  adore, 

-id.  like  our  sires,  their  sacred  aid  implore  ; 

n  vocal,  with  harmonious  lays 
i'u  Lydian  flutes,  of  cheerful  sound, 
Attemper'd  sweetly,  we  shall  raise 

The  valiant  deeds  of  chiefs  renown'd, 

\i  Troy,  Auchises,  and  the  godlike  race 

■  Veaus,  bloomino;  with  immortal  grace. 


ODES. 

BOOK  V. 


ODE  I. 
TO  MiECENAS. 

WHILE  you,  Msecenas,  dearest  friend, 
Would  Cgesar's  person  with  your  own  defend  ; 

And  Antony's  high-towered  fleet 
With  light  Liburnian  galleys  fearless  meet, 

What  shall  forsaken  Horace  do, 
Whose  every  joy  of  life  depends  on  you  ? 

With  thee  'tis  liappiness  to  live, 
And  life,  without  thee,  can  no  pleasure  give. 

Shall  I  th'unkind  comniand  obey. 
And  idly  waste  my  joyless  hours  away  ? 

Or,  as  becomes  the  brave,  embrace 
The  glorious  toil,  and  spurn  the  thought?  of  peai 

I  will;  and  over  Alpine  snow, 
Or  savage  Caucasus,  intrepid  go  ; 

Or  follow,  with  undaunted  breast, 
Thy  dreadful  warfare  to  the  furthest  West. 

You^ask,  what  aid  I  can  afford, 
A  puny  warrior  ;  novice  to  the  sword. 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  18r. 

Abs-^nce,  my  lord,  increases  fear  ; 
1  iie  danger  lessens  when  the  friend  is  near  : 

Thus,  if  the  mother-bird  forsake 
Her  unfledgM  young,  she  dreads  the  gliding  snake 

With  deeper  agonies  afraid, 
Not  that  her  presence  could  afford  them  aid. 

With  cheerful  heart  will  I  sustain^ 
To  purchase  your  esteem,  this  dread  campaign  : 

Not  that  ray  ploughs,  with  heavier  toil, 
Or  with  a  larger  team,  may  turn  my  soil ; 

Not  that  my  flocks,  when  Syrius  reigns, 
3Iay  browse  "the  verdure  of  Lucania's  plains  ; 

Not  that  my  villa  shall  extend 
To  where  the  walls  of  Tusculum  ascend. 

Thy  bounty  largely  hath  supplied, 
Even  with  a  lavish  hand,  my  utmost  pride  ; 

Nor  will  I  meanly  wish  for  more, 
Tasteless  in  earth  to  hide  the  sordid  store. 

Like  an  old  miser  in  the  play, 
<:'>i-  like  a  spendthrift  squander  it  away. 


I 


114  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  II. 
THE  PRAISES  OF  A  COUNTRY  LIFE 

LIKE  the  first  mortals  blest  is  he, 
From  debtS;  and  usury,  and  business  free, 

With  his  own  team  who  ploughs  the  soil. 
Which  grateful  once  confess'd  his  father's  toil. 

The  sounds  of  war  nor  break  his  sleep, 
Nor  the  rough  storm,  that  harrows  up  the  deep  ; 

He  shuns  the  courtier's  haughty  doors, 
And  the  loud  science  of  the  bar  abjures. 

Sometimes  his  marriagaVde  vines 
Around  the  lofty  bridegroom  elm  he  twines  : 

Or  lops  the  vagrant  boughs  away, 
Ingrafting  better  as  the  old  decay  ; 

Or  in  the  vale  withjoy  surveys 
His  lowing  herd  safe-wandering  as  they  graze  ; 

Or  careful  stores  the  flovr-ing  gold 
Prest  from  the  hive,  or  sheers  his  tender  fold  ; 

Or  when,  with  various  fruits  o'erspread, 
The  mellow  Autumn  lifts  his  beauteous  head, 

His  grafted  pears  or  grapes,  that  vie 
With  the  rich  purple  of  the  Tyrian  dye, 

Grateful  he  gathers,  and  repays 
His  guardian  gods  upon  their  festal  days ; 

Sometimes  beneath  an  ancient  shade, 
Qr  on  the  matted  grass  supinely  laid, 

Where  pours  the  mountain  stream  along, 
And  feather'd  warblers  chant  the  soothing  sonj  . 

Or  where  the  lucid  fountain  flows, 
And  with  ifc  pmrrauis  courts  him  to  repose. 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  186 

But  when  the  rain  and  «novvs  appear, 
And  wintry  Jore  loud  thunders  o'er  the  year, 

With  hounds  he  drives  into  the  toils 
The  foaming  boar,  and  triumphs  in  his  spoils  . 

Or  for  the  greedy  thrush  he  lays 
His  nets,  and  with  delusive  haits  betrays  ; 

Artful  he  sets  the  springin^^  snare, 
To  catch  the  stranger  crane,  or  timorous  hatCr 

Thus  happy,  wV;o  would  stoop  to  prove 
The  pains,  the  wrong?,  and  injuries  of  lore  ? 

But  if  a  chaste  aitd  virtuous  wife 
Assist  him  in  the  tender  cares  of  life  ; 

Of  sun-burnt  charms,  but  honest  fame 
(Such  as  the  Sabine,  or  Apulian  dame  ;) 
Fatigu'd  when  humeward  he  returns, 
The  sacred  fire  with  chuerfal  lustre  burns  ; 

Or  if  she  milk  her  sweliinjc  kine, 
Or  in  their  folds  his  happy  uo>  ks  confine  ; 

While  unbought  dainties  crown  the  feast, 
And  luscious  wines  from  this  year's  vintage  presi 

No  more  shall  curious  oysters  please  ; 
Or  fish,  the  luxury  of  foteign  seas 

(If  eastern  tempests,  thunderhig  o'er 
The  wintry  wave,  shall  drive  them  to  our  shore 

Or  wild-fowl  of  delicious  taste. 
From  distant  climates  brought  to  crown  the  feast 

Shall  e'er  so  grateful  prove  to  me, 
As  olives  gather'd  from  their  unctuous  tree, 

And  herbs  that  love  the  flowery  field. 
And  cheerful  health  with  pure  digestion  yield  ; 

Or  failing,  on  the  festal  day, 
Or  kid  just  rescued  from  some  beast  of  prey.     - 

Amid  the  feast  how  joys  he  to  behold 
Ills  well-fed  flocks  home  hasting  to  their  fold' 
\'or.,  I  16 


186         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Or  see  his  laboured  oxen  bow 
Their  languid  necks,  and  drag  th'inverted  ploujii 

At  night  his  numerous  slaves  to  view- 
Round  his  domestic  gods  their  mirth  pursue  ! 

The  usurer  spoke  :  determined  to  begin 
A  country-life,  he  calls  his  money  in, 

But,  ere  the  moon  was  in  her  wane. 
The  wretch  had  put  it  out  to  use  again. 

ODE  HI. 
TO  MAECENAS. 

IF  parricide  ever,  in  horrors  more  dire, 
With  impious  right  hand  shall  strangle  his  sire, 
On  garlick,  than  hemlock  more  rank,  let  him  feed 
O  stomach  of  mowers  to  digest  such  a  weed ! 
What  poison  is  this  in  my  bosom  so  glowing  ? 
Have  I  swallow'd  the  gore  of  a  viper  unknowing  ? 
Canidia  perhaps  hath  handled  the  feast, 
And  with  witchery  hellish  the  banquet  hath  drest 
With  this  did  Medea  her  lover  besmear. 
Young  Jason,  beyond  all  his  Argonauts  fair ; 
The  stench  was  so  strong,  that  it  tam'd  to  the  yoke 
The  brass-footed  bulls  breathing  fire  and  smoke. 
On  the  gown  of  Creusa  its  juices  she  shed, 
Then  on  her  wing'd  dragon  in  triumph  she  fled. 
iNot  such  the  strong  vapour  that  burns  up  the  plains, 
W^hen  the  dog-star  in  anger  triumphantly  reigns ; 
?Vot  the  shirt  of  Alcides,  that  well-labour'd  soldier, 
With  flames  more  envenom'd  burn'd  into  his  shoul- 
der. 
May  the  girl  of  your  heart,  if  ever  you  taste, 
ii'.etious  Maecenas,  so  baleful  a  feast, 
•   r  hand  o'er  your  kisses,  oh,  may  she  bespread, 
■>  ■:.  1  lie  afar  ofl'  on  the  stock  of  the  bed  ! 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  187 


ODE  IV. 


AS  wolves  and  lambs  by  nature  disagree, 

So  is  my  hatred  firm  to  thee  ; 
Thou  wretch,  whose  back  with  flagrant  whips  h 
torn ; 

Whose  legs  with  galling  fetters  worn  ; 
Though  wealth  thy  native  insolence  inflame, 

A  scoundrel  ever  is  the  same, 
While  you  your  thrice  three  ells  of  gown  display,. 

And  stalk  along  the  sacred  way, 
Observe  the  free-born  indignation  rise, 

Mark  !   how  they  turn  away  their  eyes  : 
This  wretch,  they  cry,  with  public  lashing  flay'd 

Till  even  the  beadle  loath'd  his  trade, 
Now  ploughs  his  thousand  acres  of  demesne. 

And  wears  the  pavement  with  his  train  ; 
Now  on  the  foremost  benches  sits,  in  spite 

Of  Otho,  an  illustrious  knight. 
From  slaves  and  pirates  to  assert  the  main. 

Shall  Rome  such  mighty  fleets  maintain, 
And  shall  those  fleets,  that  dreadful  rule  the  sea, 

A  pirate  and  a  slave  obey  ? 


}.58  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE; 

ODEV. 

ON  THE  WITCH  CANIDIA. 

BUT  oh;  ye  godS;  whose  awful  sway 
Heaven,  earth,  and  human-kmd  obey, 
What  can  this  hideous  noise  intend  ? 
On  me  what  ghastly  looks  they  bend  ' 
If  ever  chaste  Lucina  heard 
Thy  vows  in  hour  of  birlh  perferr'd  • 
Oh !  by  this  robe's  impurpled  train , 
Its  purple  pride,  alas  !  l\ow  vain  ! 
By  the  unerring  wrath  of  Jove, 
Unerring  shall  his  vengeance  prove  ; 
Why  like  a  step-danae  do  you  stare, 
Or  like  a  wounded  tigress  glare  ? 

Thus  while  his  sacred  robes  they  tear. 
Tlie  trembling  boy  prefers  his  prayer  ; 
Then  naked  stands,  with  such  a  form 
As  might  an  impious  Thracian  charm. 
Canidia,  crown'd  with  writhing  snakes 
Dishevell'd,  thus  the  silence  breaks  : 
'  Now  the  magic  fire  prepare, 
And  from  graves  uprooted  tear 
Trees,  whose  horrors  gloomy  spread 
Round  the  mansions  of  the  dead  ; 
Bring  the  eggs  and  plumage  foul 
Of  a  midnight-shrieking  owl  ; 
Be  they  well  besmeared  with  blood 
Of  the  blackest-venom'd  toad  ; 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  1^ 

From  their  various  climates  brin»' 

Every  herb  that  taints  the  spring  ; 

Then  into  the  charm  be  thrown,. 

Snatch'd  from  famish'd  bitch;  a  bone  . 

Burn  them  all  with  magic  flame, 

Kindled  first  by  Colchian  dame  V 
Now  Sagana,.  around  the  cell, 
Sprinkled  her  waters  black  from  hell ; 
Fierce  as  a  porcupine,  or  boar, 
In  frightful  wreaths  her  hair  she  wore. 

Veia,  who  never  !<new  remorse, 
Uplifts  the  spade  with  feeble  force. 
And,  breathless  with  the  hellish  toil. 
Deep-groaning  break?  the  guilty  soil. 
Turns  out  the  earth,  and  digs  a  grave. 
In  which  the  boy  (as  o'er  the  wave 
A  lusty  swimmer  lifts  his  head) 
Chin- deep  sinks  downwai-d  to  the  dead, 
O'er  dainties,  chaug'd  twice  thrice  a-day 
Slowly  to  gaze  his  life  away  ; 
That  the  foul  hags  an  amorous  dose 
Of  his  parch'd  marrow  may  compose. 
His  marrow  and  his  liver  dried, 
The  seat  where  wasiton  thoughts  reside. 
When,  fixt  upon  his  food  in  vain, 
His  eye-balls  pin'd  away  by  pain. 

Naples,  for  idleness  renown'd, 
And  all  the  villages  around, 
Believe  that  Folia  shar'd  their  rites, 
She  who  in  monstrous  lusts  delights, 
Whose  voice  the  stars  from  heaven  can  tear- 
And  charm  bright  Luna  from  her  sphere. 

Here,  with  black  tooth  and  livid  jaw.?. 
Her  unpar'd  thumbs  Canidia  gnaws, 


190  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

And  into  hideous  accents  broke  ; 

In  sounds,  how  direful !  thus  she  spoke  : 

Ye  powers  of  darkness  and  of  hell, 
Propitious  to  the  magic  spell, 
Who  rule  in  silence  o'er  the  night, 
While  we  perform  the  mystic  rite, 
Be  present  now,  your  horrors  shed, 
In  hallow'd  vengeance  on  his  head. 
Beneath  the  forest's  gloomy  shade 
AVhile  beasts  in  slumbers  sweet  are  laid,. 
Give  me  the  leecher,  old  and  lew'd. 
By  barking  village-curs  pursued, 
Expos'd  to  laughter,  let  him  shine 
In  essence — ah  !  that  once  was  mine. 
What !  shall  my  strongest  potions  fail, 
And  could  Medea's  charms  prevail  ? 
When  the  fair  harlot,  proud  of  heart, 
Deep  felt  the  vengeance  of  her  art ; 
Her  gown,  with  powerful  poisons  dyed. 
In  flames  enwrappM  the  guilty  bride. 
Yet  every  root  and  herb  I  know, 
And  on  what  steepy  depths  they  grow, 
And  yet,  with  essence  round  him  shed, 
He  sleeps  in  some  bold  harlot's  bed  ; 
Or  walks  at  large,  nor  thinks  of  me. 
By  some  more  mighty  witch  set  free. 

But  soon  the  wretch  my  wrath  shall  prov< 
By  spells  unwonted  taught  to  love  ; 
Nor  shall  even  Marsian  charms  have  power 
Thy  peace,  O  Varus  to  restore. 
With  stronger  drugs,  a  larger  bowl 
I'll  fill,  to  bend  thy  haughty  soul ; 
Sooner  the  seas  to  heaven  shall  rise. 
And  earth  spring  upwards  to  the  ekies, 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  101 

Than   you  not  burn  in  fierce  desire, 
As  liielts  this  pitch  in  smoky  fire. 

The  boy,  with  lenient  words,  no  more 
Now  strives  their  pity  to  implore ; 
With  rage  yet  doubtful  what  to  speak, 
Forth  from  his  lips  these  curses  break  : — 
Your  spells  may  right  and  wrong  remove, 
But  ne'er  shall  change  the  wrath  of  Jove  ; 
For,  while  I  curse  the  direful  deed. 
In  vain  shall  all  your  victims  bleed. 
Soon  as  this  tortur'd  body  dies, 
A  midnight  Fury  will  I  rise  : 
Then  shall  my  ghost,  though  form'd  of  air, 
Your  cheeks  with  crooked  talons  tear, 

Unceasing  on  your  entrails  prey, 

And  fright  the  thoughts  of  sleep  away  : 

Such  horrors  shall  the  guilty  know, 

Such  is  the  power  of  gods  below. 
Ye  filthy  hags,  with  showers  of  stones 

Tiie  vengeful  crowd  shall  crush  your  bones  ; 

Then  beasts  of  prey,  and  birds  of  air, 

Shall  your  unburied  members  tear, 

And,  while  they  weep  their  favourite  boy, 
^fy  parents  shall  the  vengeful  sight  enjoy. 


1J2        THE  WOFvKS  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  VI. 
TO  CASSIUS  SEVERUS. 

YOU  dog,  that  fearful  to  provoke 
The  wolf,  attack  offenceless  folk ! 
Turn  hither,  if  you  dare,  your  spite, 
And  bark  at  me,  prepared  to  bite. 
For  like  a  hound,  or  mastifi'  keen. 
That  guards  the  shepherd's  flocky  green. 
Through  the  deep  snows  I  boldly  chase, 
With  ears  erect,  the  savage  race  ; 
But  you,  when  with  your  hideous  yelling; 
You  fill  the  grove,  at  crusts  are  smelling. 

Fierce    as  Archilochus  I  glow  ; 
Like  Hipponax  a  deadly  foe. 
If  any  Mongrel  shall  assail 
My  character  with  tooth  and  nail ; 
What!  like  a  truant  boy,  shall  I 
Bo  nothirtg  in  revenge — but  cry  ? 


ODES,  COOK  V.         in 

ODE  VII. 
TO  THE  ROMAN  PEOPLE, 

WHITHER,  oh !  whither,  impious,  do  ye  run 
Why  is  the  sword  unsheath'd  ;   the  war  begun  ? 
Has  then  too  little  of  the  Latian  blood 
Been   pour'd  on  earth,   or  mis'd  with  Neptune' 

flood? 
Vut  tb.at  the  Romans  with  avenging  flame 
?.lig)it  burn  the  rival  of  the  Roman  name. 
Or  Britons,  yet  unbroken  to  our  vvar. 
In  chains  should  follow  our  triumphal  car, 
But  that  the  Parthian  should  his  vows  enjoy, 
And  Rome,  with  impious  hand,  herself  destroy 

The  rage  of  wolves  and  lions  is  confin'd ; 
They  never  prey  but  on  a  different  kind. 
Answer,  From  madness  rise  those  horrors  dire  i 
Does  angry  fate,  or  guilt,  your  souls  inspire  1 
Silent  they  stand  ;  with  stupid  wonder  gaze, 
While  the  pale  cheek  their  inward  guilt  betrays, 
"Tis  so — the  Fates  have  cruelly  decreed, 
That  Rome  for  ancient  fratricide  must  bleed  : 
The  brother's  blood,  which  stainM  our  rising  wall-. 
On  his  descendants,  loud,  for  vengeance  calL^. 


<^0L  I 


J94         THE  WORKfc?  OF  IIORACi 

ODE  IX 
TO  MAECENAS. 

WHEN  shall  we  quaff  your  old  Caecubian  wjnc 
Reserv'd  for  pious  feasts  and  joys  divine  ? 
Caesar  with  conquest  comes,  and  gracious  JovET, 
Who  gave  that  conquest,,  shall  our  joys  approve 
Then  bid  the  breath  of  harmony  inspire 
The  Doric  flute,  and  wake  the  Phrygian  lyre  ; 
As  late,  when  the  Neptunian  youth,  who  spurn'ci 
A  mortal  birth,  beheld  his  navy  burn'd, 
And  fled  affrighted  through  his  father's  waves 
AVith  his  perfidious  host;  his  host  of  slaves, 
Freed  from  those  chains  with  which  his  rage  ^e.- 

signd, 
Impious  !  the  free-born  sons  of  Rome  to  bind. 

The  Roman  troops  (Oh  !  be  the  tale  denied 
By  futrue  times)  enslav'd  ta  woman's  pride, 
And  to  a  withered  eunuch's  will  severe 
Basely  subdu'd,  the  toils  of  war  could  bear 
Amidst  the  Roman  eagles  Sol  survey 'd, 
O  shame  !  th'  Egyptian  canopy  displayed  ; 
When  tvvice  a  tliousand  Gauls  aloud  proclaim 
Indignant  at  the  sight,  great  Caesar's  name^ 
And  a  brave  fleet,  by  just  reseutment  led, 
Turu'd  their  broad  prows,,  and  to  our  havens  fleSL. 

Come,  god  of  triumphs,  bring  the  golden  car. 
The  uatam'd  heifers,  and  the  spoiia  of  war  ; 
For  he,  whose  virtue  rais'd  his  awful  tomb 
OJsr  raih'd  Cartilage,  ne'er  return'd  to  Rome 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  m 

^j  great  and  glorious,  nor  could  Libya's  field 
To  thee,  O  Triumph,  such  a  leader  yield. 

Pursu'd  by  land  and  sea,  the  vanquished  foe 
Hath  chang'd  his  purple  for  the  garb  of  woe  ; 
With  winds,  no  more  his  own  ;  with  shattered  fleei 
He  seeks  the  far-fam'd  hundred  towns  of  Crete  ; 
To  temp>€st-beaten  Libya  speeds  his  way, 
Or  drives  a  vagrant  through  th'  uncertain  sea. 

Boy,   bring  us  larger  bowls,  and  fill  them  rouiiU 
With  Chian,  or  the  Lesbian  vintage  crown'd. 
Or  rich  Caecubian,  which  may  best  restrain 
All  sickening  qualms,  and  fortify  the  brain. 
Th'  inspiring  juice  shall  the  gay  banquet  warn? 
NcTr  Ceesars  danger  shall  our  fears  alarni: 


19G  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  X. 
TO  MiEVIUS. 

WHEN  filthy  Msevius  hoists  the  spreading  sail 

Each  luckless  omen  shall  prevail. 
Ye  southern  winds,  invert  the  foamy  tides, 

And  bang  his  labouring  vessel's  sides  ; 
Let  Eurus  rouse  the  main  with  blackening  roar 

Crack  every  cable,  every  oar  ; 
Let  the  north  wind  rise  dreadful  o'er  the  flood- 

As  when  it  breaks  the  mountain- woods. 
Nor  let  one  friendly  star  shine  o'er  the  night, 

When  sets  Orion's  gloomy  light. 
Mayst  thou  no  kinder  winds,  O  Msevius,  meet. 

Than  the  victorious  Grecian  fleet, 
When  Pallas  turn'd  her  rage  from  ruin'd  Troy. 

The  impious  Ajax  to  destroy. 
With  streams  of  sweat  the  toiling  sailor  gicwp. 

Thy  face  a  muddy  paleness  shows  ; 
Nor  shall  thy  vile,  unmanly  wailings  move 

The  pity  of  avenging  Jove. 
While  watery  winds  the  bellowing  ocean  shake, 

I  see  thy  luckless  vessel  break  : 
But  if  thy  carcass  reach  the  winding  shore, 

And  birds  the  pamper'd  prey  devour, 
A  lamb  and  lustful  goat  shall  thank  the  storm 

Antl  I  the  sacrifice  perform.. 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  197 

ODE  XI. 

TO  PETTIUS. 

tINCE  cruel  love,  O  Pettius,  pierc'd  my  heart, 
Hgw  have  I  lost  my  once-lov'd  lyric  art ! 
Thrice  have  the  woods  their  leafy  honour  mourn'd^ 
Since  for  Inachia's  beauties  Horace  burn'd. 
How  was  I  then  (for  I  confess  my  shame) 
Of  every  idle  tale  the  laughing  theme  I 
Oh!  that  I  ne'er  had  known  the  jovial  feast, 
Where   the  deep  sigh,  that  rends  the  labouring 

breast, 
Where  languor,  and  a  gentle  silence  shows. 
To  every  curious  eye,  the  lover's  woes. 

Pettius,  how  often  o'er  the  flowing  bowl, 
•When  the  gay  liquor  warm'd  my  opening  soul, 
When  Bacchus,  jovial  god,  no  more  restrain'd 
The  modest  secret,  how  have  I  complain'd. 
That  weaUhy  blockheads,  i»a  female's  eyes, 
From  a  poor  poet's  genius  bear  the  prize  ! 
But  if  a  generous  rage  ray  breast  should  warm, 
I  swore — no  vain  amusements  e'er  shall  charm 
My  aching  wounds.     Ye  vagrant  winds,  receive 
The  sighs,  that  sooth  the  pains  they  should  relieve. 
Here  shall  my  shame  of  being  conquer'd  end, 
Nor  with  such  rivals  will  I  more  contend. 

When  thus,  with  solemn  air,  I  vaunting  said,. 
Inspir'd  by  thy  advice  I  homeward  sped  : 
But  ah  I  m3"  feet  m  wonted  wanderings  stray, 
And  to  no  friendly  doors  my  steps  betray  ; 
There  I  forget  my  vows,  forget  my  pride, 
Vnd  at  her  tlireshold  lay  my  tortur'd  side. 


J.98  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACK 

ODE  xiir. 

TO  A  FRIEND. 

SEE  what  horrid  tempests  rise, 
And  contract  the  clouded  skies  ; 
Snows  and  showers  fill  the  air, 
And  bring  down  the  atmosphere. 
Hark  !  what  tempests  sweep  the  floods  ! 
How  they  shake  the  rattling  woods  ! 

Let  us  while  it's  in  our  power, 
Let  us  seize  the  fleeting  hour ; 
While  our  cheeks  are  fresh  and  gay. 
Let  us  drive  old  age  away  ; 
Let  us  smooth  its  gathered  brows, 
Youth  its  hour  of  mirth  allows. 

Bring  us  down  the  mellow'd  wine, 
Rich  with  years,  that  equal  mine  ; 
Prithee,  talk  no  more  of  sorrow, 
To  the  gods  belongs  to-morrow, 
And,  perhaps,  with  gracious  power 
They  may  change  the  gloomy  hour. 
Let  the  richest  essence  shed 
Eastern  odours  on  your  head. 
While  the  soft  Cyllenian  lyre 
Shall  your  labouring  breast  inspire. 

To  his  pupil,  brave  and  young. 
Thus  the  noble  Centaur  sung  : 
Matchless  mortal !  though  'tis  thine 
Proud  to  boast  a  birth  divine. 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  199 

Yet  the  banks,  with  cooling  waves 
Which  the  smooth  Scaraander  laves  : 
\nd  where  Simois  with  pride 
Rougher  rolls  his  rapid  tide, 
Destin'd  by  unerring  Fate, 
Shall  the  sea-born  hero  wait. 

There  the  Sisters,  fated  boy, 
Shall  thy  thread  of  life  destroy, 
Nor  shall  azure  Thetis  more 
Waft  thee  to  thy  natal  shore  ; 
Then  let  joy  and  mirth  be  thine, 
Mirthful  songs,  and  joyous  wine, 
And  with  converse  blithe  and  gay 
Dj-ive  all  gloomy  cares  awaj'. 


I 


'M  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

ODE  XV. 
TO  NEiERA. 

CLEAR  was  the  night,  the  face  of  heaven  seieiK- 
Bright  shone  the  moon  amidst  her  starry  train,. 
When  round  my  neck  as  curls  the  tendril-vine — 
(Loose  are  its  curlings,  if  compar'd  to  thine  ;) 
'Tvvas  then,  Insulting  every  heavenly  power, 
That,  as  I  dictated,  you  boldly  swore  : 
While  the  gaunt  wolf  pursues  the  trembling  sheep 
While  fierce  Orion  harrows  up  the  deep  ; 
While  Phoebus'  locks  float  wanton  in  the  wind, 
Thus  shall  Nesera  prove,  thus  ever  kind. 

But,  if  with  aught  of  man  was  Horace  borii^ 
^Severely  shalt  thou  feel  his  honest  scorn  ; 
Nor  will  he  tamely  bear  the  bold  delight, 
With  which  his  rival  riots  out  the  night, 
But  in  his  anger  seek  some  kinder  dame. 
Warm  with  the  raptures  of  a  mutual  flame ; 
Nor  shall  thy  rage,  thy  grief,  or  angry  charms 
Recall  the  lover  to  thy  faithless  arms. 
And  thou,  whoe'er  thou  art,  who  joy  to  shine. 
Proud  as  thou  art,  in  spoils  which  once  were  mint'. 
Though  wide  thy  land  extends,  and  large  thy  fold, 
Though  rivers  roll  for  thee  their  purest  gold. 
Though  nature's  wisdom  in  her  works  were  thine. 
And  beauties  of  the  human  fa?e  divine. 
Yet  soon  thy  pride  her  wandering  love  shall  mourn - 
While  I  shall  laugh,  exulting  in  my  turn, 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  201 

ODE  XVI. 
TO  THE  ROMANS. 

liS  endless  civil  war,  th'  imperial  state 
i3y  her  own  strength  precipitates  her  fate. 
What  neighbouring  nations,  fiercely  leagu'd  inarms 
What  Porsena,  with  insolent  aly.rms 
Threatening  her  tyrant  monarch  to  restore  ; 
What  Spartacus,  and  Capua"s  rival  power  ; 
What  Gaul,  tumultuous  and  devoid  of  truth, 
Ann  fierce  Geriuania,  with  her  blue-eyed  youth 
What  Hannibal,  on  whose  accursed  head 
Our  sires  their  deepest  imprecations  shed. 
In  vain  attempted  to  her  awful  state, 
Shall  we,  a  blood-devoted  race,  complete  ? 
Again  shall  savage  beasts  these  hills  possess  / 
And  fell  barbarians,  wanton  with  success, 
Scatter  our  city's  flaming  ruins  wide, 
Or  through  her  streets  in  vengeful  triumph  ride 
And  her  great  founder's  hallovv'd  ashes  spurn. 
That  sleep  uninjur'd  in  their  sacred  urn  1 

But  some,  perhaps,  to  shun  the  rising  shame 
(Which  Heaven  approve)  would  try  some  happier 

scheme. 
As  the  Phocoeans  oft  for  freedom  bled, 
At  length,  with  imprecated  curses,  fled 
And  left  to  boars  aad  wolves  the  sacred  fanje. 
With  all  their  household  gods,  ador'd  in  vain  ; 
So  let  us  fly,  as  far  as  earth  extends. 
Or  where  the  vagrant  wind  our  voyage  bends. 

Shall  this,  or  shall  some  better  scheme  prevail  •' 
Why  do  we  stop  to  hoist  the  willing  sail  ? 


::»2  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

But  let  us  swear,  when  floating  rocks  shall  gau. 
Rais'd  from  the  deep,  the  surface  of  the  main  , 
When  lowiy  Po  the  mountain-summit  Igives, 
And  Apennine  shall  plunge  beneath  the  waves  ; 
When  nature's  monsters  meet  in  strange  delight,. 
And  the  fell  tigress  ,-liall  with  stags  unite  ; 
When  the  fierce  kite  shall  woo  the  willing  dove. 
And  win  the  wanton  with  adulterous  love  ; 
When  herds  on  brindled  lions  fearless  gaze, 
And  the  smooth  goat  exults  in  briny  seas  : 
Then,  and  then  only,  to  the  tempting  gale 
To  spread  repentant  the  returning  sail. 

Yet  to  cut  off  our  hopes,  those  hopes  that  chavni 
Our  fondness  home,  let  us  with  curses  arm 
These  high  resolves.     Thus  let  the  brave  and  wise. 
Whose  souls  above  th'  indocile  vulgar  rise  ; 
Then  let  the  crow'd,  who  dare  not  hope  success, 
Inglorious,  these  ill-omen'd  seats  possess. 

But  ye,  whom  virtue  warms,  indulge  no  more 
These  female  plaints,  but  quit  this  fated  shore  ; 
For  earth-surrounding  sea  our  flight  awaits, 
Offering  its  blissful  isles,  and  happy  seats. 
Where  annual  Ceres  crowns  th'uncuitur'd  field, 
And  vines  unprun'd  their  blushing  clusters  yield  ; . 
Where  olives,  faithful  to  their  season,  grow. 
And  figs  with  nature's  deepest  purple  glow  ; 
From  hollow  oaks  where  honey'd  streams  distil. 
And  bounds  with  noisy  foot  the  pebbled  rill  ; 
Where  goats  untaught  forsake  the  flowery  valc; 
And  bring  their  swelling  udders  to  the  pail ; 
Nor  evening  bpars  the  sheep-fold  growl  around, 
Nor  mining  vipers  heave  the  tainted  ground  ; 
Nor  watry  Eurus  deluges  the  plain, 
Nor  heats  excessive  burn  the  springing  grain. 


ODES,  BOOK  V.  203'' 

Not  Argo  thither  turn'd  her  armed  head  ; 
Medea  there  no  magpie  poieun  sprt-ad  ; 
No  merchants  thither  plough  the  pathless  main. 
For  guilty  commerce,  and  a  thirst  of  gain  ; 
Nor  wise  Ulysses,  and  his  wandering  bands, 
Vicious,  though  brave,  e'er  knew  these  happy  lands. 
O'er  the  glad  flocks  no  foul  contagion  spreads, 
Nor  summer  sun  his  burning  influence  sheds. 

Pure  and  unmix'd  the  world's  first  ages  roU'd : 
But  soon  as  brass  had  stain'd  the  flowing  gold, 
To  iron  harden 'd  by  succeeding  crimes, 
Jove  for  the  just  preserv'd  these  happy  climes, 
To  which  the  gods  this  pious  race  invite, 
And  bid  me.  raptur'd  bard,  direct  their  flight; 


ODE  XVII. 
TO  CANIDIA. 

CANIDIA,  10  thy  matchless  art, 
Vanquish'd  I  yield  a  suppliant  heart ; 
But  oh  !  b}-  Hell's  extended  plains, 
"Where  Pluto's  gloomy  consort  reigns  ; 
By  bright  Diana's  vengeful  rage, 
Which  prayers  nor  hecatombs  assuage 
And  by  the  books,  of  power  to  call 
The  charmed  stars,  and  bid  them  fall. 
No  more  pronounce  the  sacred  scroll,  - 
But  back  the  magic  circle  roll. 


204  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

Even  stern  Achilles  could  forgive 
The  Mysian  king,  and  bid  him  live, 
Though  proud  he  rang'd  the  ranks  of  fight. 
And  hurl'd  the  spear  with  daring  might. 
Thus,  when  the  murderous  Hector  lay 
Condenin'd  to  dogs,  and  birds  of  prey, 
Yet  when  his  royal  father  kneel'd, 
The  fierce  Achilles  knew  to  yield  ; 
And  Troy's  unhappy  matrons  paid 
Their  sorrows  to  their  Hector's  shade. 

Ulysses'  friends,  in  labours  tried. 
So  Circe  will'd  threw  off  their  hide, 
Assum'd  the  human  form  divine, 
And  dropp'd  the  voice  and  sense  of  swine. 

O  thou,  whom  tars  and  merchants  love, 
Too  deep  thy  vengeful  rage  I  prove, 
Reduc'd,  alas  !  to  skin  and  bone, 
My  vigour  fled,  my  colour  gone, 
Thy  fragrant  odours  on  my  head 
3Iore  than  the  snov/s  of  age  have  shed. 
Days  press  on'nights.  and  nights  on  days-, 
Yet  never  bring  an  hour  of  ease, 
While,  gasping  in  the  pangs  of  death, 
I  stretch  my  lungs  in  vain  for  breath. 

Thy  charms  have  power  (''tis  now  confesf ' 
To  split  the  head,  and  tear  the  breast. 
What  would  you  more,  all-charming  dame  ■ 
O  seas,  and  earth  !  this  scorching  flame  ! 
Not  such  the  fire  Alcides  bore. 
When  the  black-venom'd  shirt  he  wore 
Nor  such  the  flames,  that  to  the  skies 
From  Etna's  burning  entrails  rise : 
And  yet,  thou  shop  of  poisons  dire^ 
You  glow  with  unrelenting  fire,. 


O  JES,  BOOK  V.  '205 

Till,  by  the  rapid  heat  calcin'd, 
Vagrant  I  drive  before  the  wind. 

How  long  ? — What  ransom  shall  I  pay  ? 
i*2peak — I  the  stern  command  obey. 
To  expiate  the  guilty  deed, 
Say,  shall  a  hundred  bullocks  bleed  ? 
Or  shall  I  to  the  lying  string 
Thy  fame  and  spotless  virtue  sing  ? 
Teach  thee,  a  golden  star,  to  rise, 
And  deathless  walk  the  spangled  skies  ? 

When  Helen's  virtue  was  defara'd, 
Her  brothers,  though  with  rage  inflam'd. 
Yet  to  the  bard  his  eyes  restor'd, 
When  suppliant  he  their  grace  implorM. 

Oh  I  calm  this  madness  of  my  brain, 
For  you  can  heal  this  raging  pain. 
You  never  knew  the  birth  of  shame, 
Nor  by  thy  hand,  all-skilful  dame, 
The  poor  man's  ashes  are  upturned, 
Though  they  be  thrice  three  days  inurn'd 
Thy  bosom's  bounteous  and  humane, 
Thy  hand  from  blood  and  murder  clean 
And  with  a  blooming  race  of  boys 
liUqina  crowns  thy  mother-joys. 


L 


'206  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 


CANIDIA'S  ANSWER. 

I'LL  hear  no  more.    Thy  prayers  a,re  vain 
Not  rocks,  amid  the  wintry  main, 
Less  heed  the  shipwreck'd  sailors's  cries,- 
When  Neptune  bids  the  tempest  rise. 
Shall  you  Cotyttia's  feast  deride. 
Yet  safely  triumph  in  thy  pride  ? 
Or,  impious,  to  the  glare  of  day 
Tlie  sacred  joys  of  love  betray  ? 
Or  fill  the  city  with  my  name, 
And  pontiff  like  our  rights  defame  ? 
Did  I  with  wealth  in  vain  enrich 
Of  potent  spells  each  charming  witcfv 
Or  mix  the  speedy  drugs  in  vain  ? 
No — ^through  a  lingering  length  of  paiu 
Reluctant  shalt  thou  drag  thy  days^ 
While  every  hour  new  pangs  shall  raise- 
Gazing  on  the  delusive  feast, 
Which  charms  his  eye^  yet  flies  his  taste 
'  Perfidious  Tantalus  implores, 
'  For  rest,  for  rest,  the  vengeful  powers  , 
Prometheus,  while  the  vulture  preys 
Upon  his  liver,,  longs  for  ease  ; 
And  Sisyphus,  with  many  a  groan, 
Uprolls,  with  ceaseless  toil,  his  atonCj, 
To  fix  it  on  the  topmost  hill — 
'  In  vain — for  Jove's  all-ruling  v^'ilf 
Forbids.     When  thus  in  black  despair 
■Down  from  some  castle,  high  in  air. 
You  seek  a  headlong  fate  below, 
Or-  try  the  dagger's  pointed  bloi;»', 


ODES;  BOOK  V.  20: 

Or  if  the  left-ear'd  knot  you  tie, 
Yet  death  your  vain  attempts  shall  fly  , 
Then  on  your  shoulders  will  I  ride, 
And  earth  shall  shake  beneath  my  pride. 

Could  I  with  life  an^  image  warm 
(Impertinent,  you  saw  the  charm.) 
Or  tear  down  Luna  from  her  skies. 
Or  bid  the  dead,  thou^fh  burn'd,  arise, 
jQr  mix  the  draught  inspiring  love,. 
-Aod  shall  my  art  on  thee  successless  prove  ' 


THE 

SECULAR  POEM. 

The  Poet  to  the  People. 

JiTAND  off,  ye  \iilgar,  nor  profane, 
With  bold,  unhallow'd  sounds,  this  festal  scf 
In  hymns  inspir'd  by  trutli  divine, 
I,  priest  to  the  melodious  Nine, 

J"o  3'ouths  and  virgins  sing  the  mystic  strain 

To  the  Chorus  of  Youths  and  Virgins. 

PHCEBUS  taught  me  how  to  sing. 
How  to  tune  the  vocal  string  ; 
Phoebus  made  me  known  to  Fame, 
Honour'd  with  a  poet's  name. 

Noble  youths,  and  virgins  fair, 
Chaste  Diana's  guardian  care 
(Goddess,  whose  unerring  dart 
Stops  the  lynx,  or  flying  hart,) 
Mark  the  Lesbian  measures  well, 

Where  they  fall,  and  where  they  swell 
And  in  varied  cadence  sing, 
As  I  strike  the  changing  string. 
To  the  god,  who  gilds  the  skies. 
Let  the  solemn  numbers  rise  ; 
Solemn  sing  the  queeu  of  night, 
And  her  crescent's  bending  light, 
Which  adown  the  fruitful  year 
Rolls  tjie  months  in  prone  career. 


THE  SECULAR  POEM.  20^J 

Soon,  upon  her  bridal  day, 
Thus  the  joyful  maid  shall  say  : 
When  the  great  revolving  year 
Bade  the  festal  morn  appear, 
High  the  vocal  hymn  I  rais'd, 
And  the  listening  gods  were  pleas''d.> 
All  the  vocal  hymn  divine, 
Horace,  tuneful  bard,  was  thine. 

FIRST  CONCERT, 
HYMN  TO  APOLLO. 

Chorus  of  Youths  and  Virgins 

riTYUS,  with  impious  lust  inspird, 
By  chaste  Latona's  beauties  fir'd, 

Thy  wrath,  O  Phoebus,  tried; 
\nd  Niobe,  of  tongue  profane, 
Deplor'd  her  numei'ous  offspring  slain, 

Sad  victuus  of  their  mothers  pride, 

Achilles  too,  the  son  of  Fame, 

Though  sprung  from  Thetis,  sea-born  daine 

And  first  of  men  in  fight, 
Though  warring  with  tremendous  spear 
He  shook  the  Trojan  towers  with  fear, 

Yet  bow'd  to  thy  superior  might , 

The  cypress,  when  by  storms  impeil'd. 
Or  pine,  by  biting  axes  fell'd. 

Low  bends  the  towering  head  ; 
So  falling  on  th'  ensanguin'd  plain. 
By  your  unerring  arrow  slain, 

His  mighty  bulk  the  hero  spread 
Vol  I  ■  18 


m  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE 

He  had  not  Priam's  heedless  court, 
Dissolved  in  wine,  and  festal  sport, 

With  midnight  art  surprised  ; 
But,  bravely  bold,  of  open  force, 
Tfad  proudly  scorn'd  Minerva's  horse 

And  all  its  holy  cheat  despis'd  ; 

Then  arm'd,  alas!  with  horrors  dire. 
Wide-wasting  with  resistless  ire, 

Into  t;;r  flaiiics  had  thrown 
Infants,  upon  whos-e  faltering  tongue 
Their  words  in  formless  accents  hung. 

Infants  to  light  and  life  unknown: 

But  eh  arm 'd  by  beauty's  queen  and  thee, 
The  sire  of  gods,  with  just  decree 

Assenting,  shook  the  skies  ; 
That  Troy  should  change  th'  imperial  seat, 
\nd.  guided  by  a  better  fate, 

Glorious  in  distant  realms  should  rise 

Oh  !  may  the  god,  who  could  inspire 
With  living  sounds  the  Grecian  lyre  : 

In  Xanthus'  lucid  stream 
Who  joys  to  bathe  his  flowing  hair, 
>fow  make  the  Latian  muse  his  care. 

And  powerful  guard  her  rising  fame 


THE  SECULxVR  POEM.  2U 

SECOND  CONCERT. 

Chorus  of  Youths. 
VE  virgias,  sing  Diana's  praise. 

Chorus  of  Virgins. 
I'e  bjys,  let  youthful  Phoebus  crown  your  lays, 

The  Two  Choirs. 
Together  let  us  raise  the  voice 

To  her,  belov'd  by  Jove  supreme  ; 
Let  fiiir  Latona  be  the  theme, 
).ur  tuneful  theme,  his  beauteous  choice. 

Chorus  of  Youths. 

Ye  virgins,  sing  Diana's  fame, 
Who  bat'ues  delighted  in  the  limpid  stream ; 
Dark  Erymanthus'  awful  groves, 
The  woods  that  Algidus  o'erspread, 
Or  wave  on  Cragus'  verdant  head, 
Joyous  th'  immortal  huntress  loves. 

Chorus  of  Virgins. 

Ye  boys,  with  equal  honour  sing 
Talr  Tempe  cloth'd  with  ever-bloomiog  spring  ; 
Then  hail  the  Delian  birth  divine, 

Whose  shoulders,  beaming  heavenly  fire, 
Grac'd  with  his  brother's  warbling  lyre, 
Vnd  with  the  golden  quiver  shine. 

*  The  tweoty-Snt  OJe  cf  «he  £ret  Bock. 


212  THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

Chorus  of  YotUhs  and  Virgins. 

Mov'd  by  the  solemn  voice  of  prayer, 
They  both  shall  make  imperial  Rome  their  care 
And  gracious  turn  the  direful  woes 
Of  famine  and  of  weeping  war 
From  Rome;  from  sacred  Caesar  far, 
Aiid  pour  them  on  our  British  foes. 


THIRD  CONCERT. 
TO  APOLLO  AND  DIANA. 

Chorus  of  Youths  and  Virgins. 

YE  radiant  glories  of  the  skies, 
Ever-beaming  god  of  light, 
Sweetly  shining  queen  of  night, 

Beneath  whose  wrath  the  wood-born  savage  die^  : 
Ye  powers,  to  whom  with  ceaseless  praise 
A  grateful  world  its  homage  pays, 
Let  our  prayer,  our  prayer  be  heard, 
Now  in  this  solemn  hour  preferr'd. 
When  by  the  Sibyl's  dread  command, 
Of  spotless  maids  a  chosen  train, 
Of  spotless  youths  a  chosen  band, 

To  all  our  guardian  gods  uplift  thehallow'd  strain. 

Chorus  of  Youths. 

Fair  Sun,  who  with  unchanging  beam 
Rising  another  and  the  same. 


THE  SECULAR  POEM.  215 

Dost  from  thy  beamy  car  unfold 

The  glorious  day. 
Or  hide  it  in  thy  setting  ray, 
Of  light  and  life  immortal  source, 
IMayst  thou,  in  .dl  thy  radiant  course, 
Vothing  more  great  than  seven-hill'd  Rome  bcholti- 

Chorus  of  Virgins. 

Goddess  of  the  natal  hour, 
Or,  if  other  name  more  dear, 
Propitious  power. 
Can  charm  your  ear, 
Our  pregnant  matrons  gracious  hear  : 
With  lenient  hand  their  pangs  compose, 

Heal  their  agonizing  throes  ; 
Give  the  springing  birth  to  light. 
And  with  every  genial  grace. 
Prolific  of  an  endless  race, 
Oh  !  crown  our  marriage-laws,  and  bless  the  nnp 
tial  rite : 

Chorus  of  Youths  and  Virgins. 

That  when  the  circling  years  complete 
Again  this  awful  reason  bring. 

Thrice  with  the  day's  revolving  lighr, 
Thrice  beneath  the  shades  of  night, 
In  countless  bands  our  youthful  choirs  may  sing 
These  festal  hymns,  these  pious  games  repeat. 

Ye  Fates,  from  whom  unerring  flows 
The  word  of  trutl: ;  whose  firm  decree 

Tts  stated  bounds  and  order  knows, 
Wide-spreading  through  etemitV; 


t'14          THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE. 

With  guardian  care  around  us  wait, 

And  with  successive  glories  crown  the  state. 

Let  earth  her  various  fruitage  yield, 

Her  living  verdure  spread, 
And  form,  amid  the  waving  field, 
A  sheafy  crown  for  Ceres'  head  ; 
Fall  genial  showers,  and  o'er  our  fleecy  care 
May  Jove  indulgent  breathe  his  purest  air  ' 


Chorus  of  Youths. 

Phoebus,  whose  kindly  beams  unpart 
Health  and  gladness  to  the  heart, 
While  in  its  quiver  lies  the  pestilential  dar(, 
Thy  youthful  suppliants  hear  : 


Chorus  of  Virgins. 

Queen  of  the  stars,  who  rul'st  the  niglil; 
In  horned  majesty  of  light. 
Bend  to  thy  virgins  a  propitious  ear. 


Chorus  of  Youths  and  Virgitis. 

If,  ye  gods,  the  Roman  state 

Was  form'd  by  your  immortal  power, 
Or  if,  to  change  th'  imperial  seat. 
And  other  deities  adore. 
Beneath  your  guidance  the  Dardanian  host 
.Poiu'd  forth  their  legions  on  the  Tuscan  Qoast 


THE  SECULAR  POEM.  21 -^ 

For  whom  ^Eneas,  through  the  fire, 
In  which  he  saw  his  Troy  expire, 
A  passa,£;e  open'd  to  a  happier  clime, 

Where  they  might  nobler  triumphs  gain, 
And  to  never-ending  time 
With  boundless  empire  reign. 

Ye  gods,  inform  our  decile  yonil. 
With  early  principles  of  truth; 
Ye  gods,  indulge  the  waning  days 
Of  silver'd  age  with  placid  ease, 
And  grant  to  Rome  an  endless  race, 
Treasure  immense,  and  every  sacred  grace. 

The  prince,  who  owes  to  beauty's  queen  his  birth. 
Who  bids  the  snowy  victim's  blood 
Pour  forth  to-day  its  purple  flood. 
Oh  !  may  he  glorious  rule  the  conquered  earth  ; 
But  yet  a  milder  glory  show 
In  mei-cy  to  the  prostrate  foe  ! 

Already  the  fierce  Mede  his  arms  reveres". 

Which  wide  extend  th'  imperial  sway. 

And  bid  th'  unwilling  world  oljey  ; 
The  haughty  Indian  owns  h"»'  fears. 

And  Scythians,  doubtful  of  their  doom. 

Await  the  dread  resolves  of  Rome. 

F'aith;  Honour,  Peace,  celestial  maid, 
And  Modesty,  in  ancient  guise  array "u, 
And  Virtue  (with  unhallow'd  scorn 
Too  long  neglected)  now  appear, 
While  Plenty  fills  her  bounteous  horn, 
And  pours  her  blessings  o'er  the  various  year. 


JtO         THE  WORKS  OF  HORACE, 


■     Chorus  of  Youths. 

If  the  prophetic  power  divinC; 
Fam'd  for  the  golden  bow  and  quivered  darj 
Who  knows  to  charm  the  hstening  Nine, 
And  feeble  mortals  raise  with  healing  art ; 
If  he  with  gracious  eye  survey  the  towers 
Whei'c  Rome  his  deity  adores, 
Oh  !  let  each  era  still  presage 
Increase  of  happiness  from  age  to  age  I 

Chorus  of  Virgins. 

Oh  !  may  Diana,  on  these  favourite  hills.. 
Whose  diffusive  presence  fills 
Her  hallow'd  fane, 
Propitious  deign 
Our  holy  priests  to  hear, 
And  to  our  youth  incline  her  willing  ear  '. 

Chorus  of  Youths  and  Virgins. 

Xo !  we  the  chosen,  youthful  choir, 
Taught.with  harmonious  voice  to  raise 
Apollo's  and  Diana's  praise. 
In  full  and  certain  hope  retire, 
That  all  th'  assembled  gods,  and  sovereign  Jove 
These  pious  i'ows,  these  choral  hymns  approve. 


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